Arturia and the Lords of the Rings
by v.ren55
Summary: I am Arturia, servant of the 4th Grail War, and I curse you, Kiritsuguru Emiya for forcing me to destroy the Grail! Your seals boosted my power so that I completely purged the grail, my last chance of saving her people. It also smashed me into this… strange, and very dangerous place. A place like the Britain of old and yet, completely different. It's called, Middle Earth.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

Trees, young, of birch and pine.

The smell snapped her eyes open. That was when Saber realized she was lying on her back. The sky filled with the last glow of the setting sun.

Where am I? How did I get here?

Then she remembered.

"Kiritsuguru Emiya!"

Saber screamed in rage at the man who ordered her to destroy the Fuyuki Holy Grail. Saberf he had reinforced her fighting prowess with a command seal, he could have helped her beat Gilgamesh, the last servant of the seven and taken his master out of the tournament. Saber and Kitsuguru would have then won the Holy Grail and gotten both their wishes fulfilled.

But with two command seals, the man had turned Saber against the grail, forced her to use her sword to obliterate her last chance to save her people, to save Britain.

Lancelot, Gawain, Kay, Guinevere… her knights… her kingdom, they were doomed.

Saber, a king regrets his rule or its conclusion that king is nothing but a fool.

Gritting her teeth, Saber forced Rider, or Alexander's words out of her head. That tyrant knew nothing of kingship.

Wait, where was she?

Saber rose to her feet, and reached for her side to find Excalibur's handle there. That was a relief, and then Saber blinked. Sabert seemed to be attached to her waist. Looking down, Saber stared.

Avalon. Her sheath that healed all wounds and kept her looking young. How did she get this? Morganna had stolen it years ago.

Saber looked around. Through the dimming dusk light, Saber saw trees, long rolling hills. What looked like a stone tower was also close by. This wasn't making sense. Saber thought she should have returned to her body in the throne of heroes. There is no way she should be here.

Needing information quickly, Saber hoped that stone tower in the distance would be inhabited.

* * *

Saber frowned. Night had just fallen as she had arrived at the structure, which seemed to be a large watchtower of some kind, had fallen into ruin, but Saber thought could see the light from a fire coming from the sentry post in the side of the hill the tower was built upon. Good, she was getting a bit hungry.

In addition, Saber had realized something quickly as she had begun to walk

She was human.

This was a blessing and something to worry about. Saber could still use prana and mana for her Prana Burst abilities and Avalon. However, her Excalibur had reverted to its "Prototype" form, meaning Excalibur infused prana blasts were sealed from her. That is unless she lifted Invisible Air and all 13 Restraints of the Round Table were fulfilled, such as the one where she had to be outnumbered, and the one where the battle had to be honorable. Also, her body was for all intents and purposes, flesh and blood, which meant she would not need prana to maintain her existence, which was useful, but she would need food.

It also meant that whatever had brought her to this place, had somehow resurrected her.

Putting aside her thoughts, Saber made her way up the crumbled stairs of the tower, one hand on Excalibur's hilt. She hoped that whoever she was going to come upon would be friendly, but in an unknown land, one can never be too cautious.

As her armoured foot clanked up the final step as Saber came across three small figures clustered around the fire, cooking something on a frying pan. Probably bacon from the smell of it. To say these figures were small though might have been an understatement as they barely came up to her chest. The fourth was sleeping, dead to the world. Upon hearing her, the three around the fire spun around, clumsily pulling short blades from their belts.

"I'm sorry for startling you, I mean no harm," Saber said, raising her hands. Saber could easily draw Excalibur if they meant harm, but they seemed more scared than hostile.

"Oh, well… uhhh, what do you want?" asked the brown haired one.

"Pippin! Don't say anything." This one was bulkier built, and fair haired. His hands were worn, those of a farmer or gardener's perhaps.

As much as Saber disliked lying, a combination of the truth and some fiction would be more believable in this case. Not to mention, these little people seemed a bit on edge.

Saber sighed. "I'm a knight, new to these lands and lost her horse and pack in an accident." Saber looked the strangers in the eye. "Surely you would not begrudge someone some warmth for the night?"

"Ah well, since Frodo is asleep, we might as well oblige. Put the sword where we can see it though," said the thinner of the fair-haired little folk.

Nodding, Saber placed Excalibur onto the ground in front of her and sat down. "Thank you, may I know your names?"

They introduced themselves, and handed her a plate of their dinner. Tomatoes, sausages and bacon, all cooked perfectly and complimented each other quite well. These small folk were Hobbits, Halflings. The brown haired one was Peregerin Took, or Pippin. The lankier of the fair-haired Hobbits was Meriadoc Brandybuck or Merry. The one Saber presumed was a gardener was less open, but reluctantly revealed himself to be Samwise Gamgee. Their sleeping friend was Frodo Baggins.

"And what is your name?" asked Pippin.

"Sir Artur or Arthur, Knight of the Round Table of Camelot and of the Kingdom of Britain," Saber spoke, wondering if they would recognize her titles or even her legend.

"Never heard of that place, is it in the West or East?"

Saber winced resisting the urge to sigh. "I'm not very good with directions, but it should be in the west."

"That's strange. I've never heard of a land of men in the West known as Britain," said Pippin. Saber cursed inwardly, was she even on Earth?

"You've never been out of Shire much, how would you know?" demanded Merry.

"How did you find us by the way?" asked Sam.

"The fire was a rather obvious clue. I would be able to see it for miles on end. If you didn't want company, perhaps you should have lit it in a less exposed place," she pointed out.

The hobbits fell silent. Sam dropped the pan with a loud clatter, while Pippin's mouth dropped open.

Saber glanced at Excalibur. "Is there something wrong good sirs?" Saber asked. There was something these Hobbits weren't telling her.

A voice cried out from behind her and Saber spun around. Sabert was the fourth of the Hobbits, Frodo, his eyes were full of fear.

"What are you doing! And who are you?" he cried, staring at her.

"Sir Arthur, a knight. Your friends were kind enough to let her use their fire," Saber said.

But Frodo was already moving past her to stomp on the fire. "Put it out you fools, put it out!" Pippin and Merry helped him by pouring water over the fire, while Sam hastily scattered the larger branches and grabbed his pot. Picking up Excalibur, Saber backed away from the Hobbits.

"Mr. Baggins, is something pursuing you—"

A screech pierced the dark, sending chills up her spine. Saber had never heard anything like it. So evil, so filled with darkness.

Saber froze for but a moment, before she ran to the cliff with the Hobbits, and grimaced at the sight. Hooded figures, five of them, were gliding through the mists toward us.

"Get your blades and to the top of the tower, now!" Saber commanded. The Hobbits didn't hesitate as they drew their daggers and raced up the stairs. Saber brought up the rear, hurrying them along.

The top of the tower was as barren and ruined as the rest of it, but at least there was space to wield our swords. The Hobbits were panicked though, and Saber doubt they would be useful in the upcoming battle. Calmly, Saber gripped Avalon and Excalibur's handle with her hands and waited. This seemed to calm the Hobbits slightly, but they still watched the shadows with fear in their eyes.

It was Frodo's gasp that told her he had seen the five hooded… wraiths, approach. She turned around slowly, stepping forward in order to place Frodo and his friends behind her. The five wraith-like beings must have been exuding some unnatural aura, because a part of her wanted to quake and flee, but she would not be so easily cowed. Examining the tiny space they were in though, she realized she couldn't use Excalibur's prana burst even if all the restrictions applied.

Still, Saber did not move as the five hooded wraiths unsheathed their two-handed swords and advanced in perfect formation, swords up. Their steps falling like the death knells of a church.

Saber gripped Excalibur tightly. "Leave and do not return, I give you no other warning." The wraiths did not listen, and only lifted their swords so that their points focused on her.

"So be it. Excalibur!" Saber drew her wind-coated sword in a single fluid motion, gripping it in both of her hands before smashing it down on the first wraith's sword, knocking him down to one knee. Pivoting, she twisted around to block a slash from the wraith on her left, and forced him away by kicking him. Another wraith bore down on her and she was forced to parry several stabs, before he…or was it "it" was joined by two others. Flanked, Saber found herself being forced away from Frodo as the other two wraiths approached the Hobbits.

Sam yelled "Back you devils!" and charged recklessly. He actually got off a few good slashes before the wraith knocked him aside. Her teeth clenched, Saber tried to run for the Hobbits, but had to turn around to block a two-handed slash from one of her opponents. Sweat running down her brow, Saber turned her attention back to her opponents. She was going to have to dispatch at least one of them or else she'd never break free.

Luckily, she was getting the measure of her opponents. They didn't seem to tire, but they were slow. Skilled, but out of practice. They seemed to rely far more on their fearful aura to break their opponents rather than actual swordsmanship. All she had to do was time her move, and take advantage of the unknown reach of her invisible sword.

She saw her opening as one of the ring wraiths pulled back for a two-handed blow to her head. Using Prana-burst she lunged, dodged the cuts of the two other wraiths, before burying Excalibur into his midriff.

The wraith at first said nothing, and then screamed. Saber noted that for some curious reason, Excalibur's coat of Invisible Air flared, and golden light shone briefly through it, much to the horror and despair echoed through the night, before the wraith exploded, its body shredding into a million pieces with the twisting of steel and ripping of cloth, sword dropping limply onto the ground.

"Who are you? How can a mortal man destroy a Nazgul!" screamed one of the wraiths.

So they were called Nazgul. Thought Saber. She opened her mouth to declare who she was, but stopped as Iskandar's words echoed through her mind.

You are not a king, but a little girl bound by the false idols of a king that serves no one, but himself!

"A simple knight," said Saber. She sprang to the side as the Nazgul struck back, her eyes looking for Frodo. She could see the Hobbits, but they were scattered, alive, but stunned. Frodo though… she couldn't see him. There was one Nazgul though who was acting strangely, as if he was stabbing the air in front of the stone.

That was when she heard Frodo's scream. Eyes wide, Saber glanced around, but still couldn't see Frodo. She could practically see the glee in the Nazgul's figure though. Frodo must have somehow turned himself invisible and the Nazgul found him.

Leaping forward, she was about to bring her sword onto the Nazgul's back, when a man, dressed in travelling clothes, jumped in front of the wraith, a flaming torch and hand and a half sword. Using the torch and sword as if he wielded two blades, the man drove the Nazgul back. Frodo popped back into existence just then, blood welling from his shoulder, but to Saber's alarm, he was shivering.

However, knowing she had no time to ponder what was ailing Frodo, Saber began to turn back to her own opponents, but she had let her guard down too long. Hot, searing pain tore down her back. Biting back the urge to cry, she spun around and blocked the Nazgul's followup slash to her head.

"Arthur!" yelled Pippin.

"I'm alright! See to Frodo!" gasped Saber. Her prana-enfused armour had blunted the blow and she could feel Avalon soothing her wound. But she still found it difficult to counter the stabs from the three Nazguls. However, the man who had arrived had just set his Nazgul on fire and had moved in to drive away two of her opponents with his flaming branch and sword, managing to even stab the Nazgul in the face with his torch. One on one against the final Nazgul, Saber managed to muster the last of her strength to whirl around and decapitate the Nazgul. As golden light flared through Invisible Air once again, the Nazgul gave a similar ear-piercing scream like the first one did, before it exploded and dissipated.

Finally, Saber let herself fall to her knees, leaning on her sword for support.

"Arthur, is it? Lie down, you are wounded," said the man, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Saber waved off the man, limping toward Frodo. "We must see to Frodo first, he's in a bad way." The man glancing at Frodo, raced to his side and picked up the dagger that the Nazgul had dropped. The blade shivered before suddenly melting away into smoke, leaving only a twisted remnant of its handle.

"He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade," said the man, throwing the handle away in disgust.

"Strider, do something!" begged Sam. Saber raised an eyebrow, doubting 'Strider' was the man's true name.

Shaking his head, Strider sighed. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine." Glancing at Saber, Strider narrowed his eyes out of concern. "And so do you. Hurry."

Saber nodded. She wasn't sure the fairy folk existed in this world as well and if anybody could help Frodo, it would be them. In addition, she could feel the blood soaking her back. The Nazgul must have cut her deeper than she expected. Luckily she had Avalon—

Nearly slapping herself on her head, Saber grabbed at Avalon, but nearly lost her balance. "Wait, Strider. Put Frodo down and help me unbuckle my scabbard."

"Your scabbard?" said Strider, raising an eyebrow.

"Avalon. It suppresses and heals the bearer's wounds and staves away death." Grimacing at Strider's skeptical gaze she snapped. "Trust me on this. You can heal my wound right?"

Strider moved around to examine the gash on Saber's back and nodded. "It is in my skill, but you are sorely wounded. We should at least bind your injury first. Merry, Pippin, get some bandages from the packs and a clean knife."

Saber grunted and held still as the taller man undid the clasps of her chest plate, which fell to the ground with a thud. That was when The Hobbits gasped and Strider hesitated as they noticed Saber's relatively small, but still noticeable bosom.

"Sir Arthur? You're a..."

Saber winced as Strider began to gently clear the wound of cloth and blood. "A woman, who is also a Knight. Attend to Frodo, Pippin, Strider knows what he is doing." The hobbits nodded and went back to cleaning their friends wounds.

"You are very young to be such a skilled knight, Arthur," said Strider as he quickly finished padding and began to wound bandages around Saber's waist. It was rather easy as Strider towered over Saber.

"Appearances can be deceiving,"quipped Saber, remembering something Merlin had told her.

"I know exactly what you mean," said Strider, tying the final knot. Odd, he seemed almost rueful. Saber straightened her back and winced. The wound still stung but it was at least tightly bound. Strider appeared to be a very skilled healer.

"Here. As long as he is in contact with it, the magic will take effect." Saber unbuckled her scabbard and passed it to Strider who laid Avalon on top of Frodo.

The effect was instantaneous. Frodos pale face filled with a bit of color and he began to breathe more easily.

Saber though... A slight groan escaped her lips as Avalon's healing power transferred to Frodo, only Strider noticed.

"It's a miracle, like your sword," gasped Sam.

Saber grimaced, while Stride giving her and Excalibur a wary gaze ,before buckling Avalon to Frodo and slinging them over his shoulder.

"Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2: Rivendell

**Author's note:** **I've revised the first chapter so that Saber has her prana burst and prana channeling abilities as well as Excalibur Prototype (which means she has Invisible Air and Excalibur blasts, but the blasts are sealed). I messed upon the canon a bit so I've adapted and yes she will be superhuman. She did destroy two Nazgul and they are not exactly slouches in swordsmanship. Before anybody starts raging though, that doesn't actually rule out that power. I have a plan, it will be added back in along with a whole host of other servant abilities, trust me on this.**

**Also, I'm rather surprised so many people favorited the story so quickly. Hopefully there are more because this will be a long work, though I'm mostly doing this for fun, I like reviews follows and favorites, so please oblige :D**

**Without further ado, the next chapter.**

**Chapter 2: Rivendell**

They had travelled nonstop through the night. Frodos condition had improved slightly, but Saber's was worsening. There was now a noticeable red blot that marred the white of the bandages.

"Halt. We need to give Arthur her scabbard back. Besides, we are but six days from Rivendell and the elves," said Strider in a firm tone. The Hobbits nodded, as tired as they were, even they could see Saber was on the verge of collapse.

"I'm fine," snapped Saber leaning heavily on Pippin and Merry, who had begun to shoulder her up a few hours ago.

"Not for long. And thanks to Avalon, much of the poison's strength has been reduced to the point that it is no longer life threatening. I can slow the poison down even further with a poultice." Taking the scabbard off Frodo, he turned to Sam. "We need to find a weed called Athelas, it's also called Kingsfoil. It has white flowers." Sam nodded and scurried off.

Saber grunted."I'm fine, Strider."

Strider narrowed his eyes and bent down so he could look Saber in the eye.

"You Arthur, are nearly dead on your feet." Striders expression softened. "And it pains us all to see you suffer."

Saber looked away. "I am a knight."

"You will be no longer if you destroy yourself in the process," retorted Strider. He thrust the scabbard into Saber's hands right there and then, ending the argument, and ran into the woods to search for the Kingsfoil.

* * *

With Avalon's curative powers suppressing and healing her wounds, Saber managed to straighten herself and stop leaning on the Hobbits. Just as well because Merry and Pippin were getting tired, and quickly fell asleep alongside Frodo. Saber managed a small smile as she stood guard over them.

"Golden light," whispered a voice. Saber turned to see Frodo, his eyes open and bleary, but focused on her.

"Frodo, are you feeling better?" asked Saber, crouching down to touch Frodo's forehead. It was slightly warm and wet, but he was not longer shivering.

"Much. You… at the weathertop. I could see you," croaked Frodo. Saber squeezed Frodo's uninjured shoulder comfortingly.

Poor thing, he must be delirious.

"I saw… the golden light from your sword. I saw all the spirits flock to it like fireflies to a lamp, and I saw you release them into the Nazgul."

Saber stared at Frodo. Her sword had been coated within Invisible Air throughout the entire battle! It had flared briefly when it made direct contact with the Nazgul, but nobody would know about her prana burst attack, especially when it was still bound by the 13 Restraints of the Round Table.

Saber suddenly twisted to draw her sword, meeting a curved, single-edged blade with a clash. It was from a woman with tall and dark hair. The strength in her blow was surprising, but her figure was slender and elegant. For a second, Saber couldn't help but feel slightly jealous.

"Impressive, I didn't hear you until a few seconds ago," said Saber, tightening her grip on her wind-sheathed blade and summoning her prana, getting ready for battle.

"An elf," gasped Sam. Saber blinked. elf? One of the fairy folk? She didn't remember them being this tall. Yet another strange fact of this world.

Strider was on the scene an instant afterward, and he quickly grabbed the hands of the two women, pulling them down.

"Arthur, Arwen is an elf, and a friend to Lord Elrond of Rivendell. She will take Frodo to Rivendell. Arwen, Arthur is a friend. She fought the Nazgul with me on the Weathertop and it was her scabbard was what kept Frodo alive," explained Strider. Arwen's brow furrowed slightly, but she sheathed her sword, Saber following suite.

"I am sorry for my hasty action, I have been looking for Strider's party for two days and was worried the worst had befallen them. Will you let me examine Frodo?" Saber merely nodded stepped aside, hand still on her sword. Arwen, knelt beside Frodo, examining him. The Hobbit tried to smile, but only managed to twitch his lips, but that alone made Arwen smile.

"It is as you said, Aragorn. He was wounded, but much of the poison's power has been banished. What remains weakens Frodo, but he is in no danger of fading." She glanced at Avalon. "The magic of your scabbard is indeed a wondrous, Sir Arthur."

"It is my most valuable possession, even above my sword," said Saber.

Arwen nodded as Strider gently hoisted Frodo onto the horse.

"There are seven wraiths closing behind you, where the other two are, I don't know," said Arwen.

"I dispatched two of them," said Saber.

Arwen stared at Saber. "What? Even with fire and water, it is not possible to dispatch a ringwraith!"

Saber sighed. "Lady Arwen, now is not the time to talk about my sword. Whatever the reason for why the Nazgul want Frodo dead, we need to get Frodo to a safe place."

"She's right." Aragorn grabbed the reins, saying something in a strange language to Arwen. "Dartho guin Berian...rych le ad tolthathon." Saber didn't recognize it, but it sounded… welsh?

" Hon mabathon. Rochoh ellint im," said Arwen, taking the reins from Aragorn.

"Andelu I ven," retorted Aragorn, looking worried, his hand clasping Arwen's. Saber blinked. Ah, it appeared Arwen and Strider were both in love. It was obvious from the adoration and concern they held each other with.

"Frodo Fir. Ae anthradon I hir, tur gwaith nin beriatha hon," replied Arwen

"What are they saying?" asked Pippin. Saber shrugged.

"I do not fear them," finished Arwen. Strider hesitated for a moment, before he embraced Arwen. She returned it furiously, before leaping on the horse and galloping away.

* * *

The House of Elrond, Rivendell, as Strider called it, was the most beautiful place Saber had ever seen. Camelot had been grand with its tall towers, massive halls, and grand pennants. Yet, the Elvish city with its gracefully arched wooden balustrades and waterfalls took Saber's breath away.

The party, mounted on horses that the two escorting elves had brought, entered the valley in a state of awe, six days after Frodo had departed. As they dismounted, they were greeted by another elf, dark haired like Arwen, but while his arms were open in hospitable welcome. Saber immediately identified him as figure of some authority, and noted that he exuded an aura of wisdom, but also kindness.

"Greetings Lord Elrond," said Strider, embracing the elf.

Elrond smiled sincerely. "Estel, you are always you would be glad to know that Frodo has almost fully recovered." Elrond's sharp eyes finally rested on Saber, who did not flinch. "Thanks to your friend's scabbard, the poison's effects were contained and all I had to do was purge the remnants. He is waiting for you in the room by the waterfall." The Hobbits scampered eagerly off.

Saber inclined her head. "I only did what was righteous, Lord Elrond."

A rather serious expression came over Elrond. "Never downplay the difficulty of doing what is righteous, good knight." He turned to Strider, "Go to my daughter, Estel. I wish to speak to our new friend." Strider, or Estel, bowed before hurrying off, an eager spring to his footsteps.

Saber tensed herself as Elrond placed his hands in front of him, one over the other, and approached her.

"I have heard you were wounded in the battle and lost much blood. If you would follow me, I will examine your wound," said Elrond calmly.

"Many thanks, Lord Elrond," said Saber striding after the elf.. Avalon would heal all her wounds, but even she knew better than to refuse the aid of a master healer.

* * *

"So, where do you hail from, Arthur?" asked Elrond as he examined the scab left over from the Nazgul's strike.

"Camelot, in the Kingdom of Briton, Lord Elrond," said Saber. She had undressed herself and was lying on a bed, her back up, the lower half of her body being covered by a blanket. Elrond had had her dress and armor taken away to be repaired and cleaned. Excalibur and Avalon though were leaning against her bed.

Elrond frowned. "I have never heard of the place. Who rules there?"

Saber had been almost tempted to fall asleep as the bed and the sheets had been so soft, but the elf's questions brought back memories… of a field of broken swords and bloodied, battered armor-encased bodies.

"It fell," she said shortly.

"Ah, I am sorry for your loss. How did you find your way to Middle Earth?" asked Elrond.

Saber blinked. So this world was called Middle Earth? All right, she was definitely not in her world, but why here? Where was she and for what purpose had she been brought here? She needed answers, especially with such dangerous and evil creatures like the Nazgul roaming around. And the best way to get answers...

"Lord Elrond, if I were to tell you that I'm almost certain that I am not from Middle Earth, that I am probably from another world altogether, and that I should be dead, how would you react?" asked Saber slowly.

Elrond paused, surprised, but more curious than shocked. "I would say you are mad, but that explanation would answer the many questions I have about your sword and your scabbard."

"In exchange for your hospitality, I will answer any questions you have, provided you answer mine," said Saber.

Agreeing, Elrond started with his first question as he applied a cold unguent to the scab. "Your sword and scabbard were crafted not by the hands of men, but not by the hands of elves. Who made it? And if it, and you, are not of this world, where do you come from and how did you get here?"

And Saber told Elrond the story of how the Lady of the Lake gave her Excalibur. She had decided long ago though, not to reveal that she was a king, and instead explained that she had been a knight that served the King of Britain, before supposedly dying on the last battle and being summoned as a servant in the Grail War, where she wished to save her kingdom. The actions of some of the masters like Caster prompted Elrond to scowl in disgust. She went on to describe what she knew about the final days of the Grail war, the actions of her own master in dishonorably, but rather shrewdly tricking and killing Lancer and his master, and then of the final battle, where Kiritsuguru ordered her to destroy the Grail.

"I ended up here, near the watchtower, where I then came across the Hobbits." She was sitting now in an armchair, dressed in a white dress that Elrond had provided. Elrond himself was listening quietly.

"A fascinating, but tragic tale," said an unfamiliar voice. Saber spun around and seized Excalibur, her eyes narrowed as they rested on an old man with a pointed cap, smoking a pipe.

"A wizard?" queried Saber, recalling Merlin and his always cryptic advice.

"Indeed. Gandalf the Grey at your service. Have you met our kind before?" asked Gandalf.

Seeing the friendly, but also warm, patient light in his eyes, Saber relaxed, slightly. "Yes, one known as Merlin. I don't think you've heard of him though."

"In fact, I do know of Emrys. From what I recall, he was sent by the Valar to another world to raise a king, many eons ago," said Gandalf.

Saber froze, but Gandalf nonchalantly puffed on his pipe. "I don't recall the king's name though, Sir Arthur." The fact relaxed her shoulders, until Gandalf frowned. "Do you mind if I call you Arturia though? You need not hide your gender, so why go by Arthur?"

Arturia, the name was so unfamiliar to Saber. She had never used it since she had pulled the sword from the stone. Ever since that fateful day, so long ago, she had always answered to Arthur in order to give the impression of a male king. But then again, she was a knight first, so her gender didn't matter, and thus, the form of her name.

"It is of little consequence. Call me as you wish," said Saber stoically. She knew better than to deny a mischievous wizard's request, even if he did appear better natured than Merlin.

"Fine by me. Do you have any questions that we can answer?" asked Gandalf cheerfully.

"Yes. What are the Nazgul and why are they so keen on killing or capturing Frodo?" asked Saber. Gandalf and Elrond glanced at each other, before Gandalf nodded very slightly, so Elrond began.

_"It began… with the forging of the great rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest...fairest of all to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain Nine...nine rings were gifted to the race of Men who, above all else, desire power._

_"For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived. ...for another ring was made._

_In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others. ...and into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life._

_One Ring to rule them all…_

_One by one the Free lands of Middle earth fell to the power of the ring. But there were some...who resisted._

_A last alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle- Earth. Victory was near! But the power of the Ring could not be undone._

_It was in this moment..when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father's sword._

_Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, was defeated._

_Elrond sighed, as he seemed to grow older all of a sudden._

_The Ring passed to Isildur...who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts of Men are easily corrupted. And the Ring of Power has a will of its own._

"I tried to stop him, but he took the Ring. He died, ambushed by a group of orcs, and drowned in the river," said Elrond sadly.

"Wait, how long ago was this?" demanded Saber.

"The Second Age, more than 3000 years ago," said Gandalf.

Saber stared at Elrond in shock, before recovering herself. "You're immortal?"

"As are all elves, but that is another tale. What happened was that the ring passed into Bilbo Baggins, Frodo's uncle, after he took it off of a creature known as Gollum. We needed Frodo to deliver the ring to Rivendell, where a council is to meet in order to figure out a way to deal with the ring," said Gandalf.

Saber nodded but noted Elrond's solemn features. "Lord Elrond, your opinion on the matter?"

The tall elf sighed. "There is only one option and that is to destroy the ring. As to how it can be done, I will explain during the Council." He turned to Saber. "Will you be joining, Sir Arturia?" asked Elrond.

Briefly, Saber pondered on what she had found out from Elrond and Gandalf. She was in a world, with no idea how to get out or how she got in, but she was alive. Yet, there was a great evil threatening the land and laying it to waste.

However, if Strider, Elrond and Gandalf were any indication, there was a group of honorable warriors she could join in order to fight this evil and protect the innocents. Warriors nothing like Kiritsuguru or his ilk.

Yes, she did not have a kingdom to return to, but a knight does not run from evil, or from people in need. She annihilates it where she can.

"Yes, Lord Elrond, I would very much like to join your council."

* * *

"So what do you think of our newest visitor?" asked Gandalf to Elrond. The two had just finished discussing Isildur's Folly and Aragorn's potential, and had turned to more recent topics.

"She is no ordinary knight. Her virtue in unsurpassed and her dedication to her knightly code is unshakeable," said Elrond. He pursed his lips. "I have never met a man or woman more noble or incorruptible than she. You can almost call her an elf."

Gandalf sensed a "but" so he prompted it. "But?"

His solemn mask cracking, Elrond winced. "I fear for her life, Mithrandir. Men were not meant to live like she forces herself to. Magical scabbard or not, she is killing herself."

"I agree, but I think, that that is the reason why she was sent to us by Eru in all his mercy," said Gandalf.


	3. Chapter 3: The Council of the Ring

**Answering a few Guest reviews:**

_"Nitpicking:The ringwraiths have been killed numerous times in the past, except for the Witch-King. The problem is that they eventually regain their bodies as long as Sauron is in power, and that they're really freaking powerful. So Arwen's wrong when she says that they can't be killed. "_

Notice, that the Nazgul spoke to Saber saying that they "killed" her as in Perma-kill, or else they won't be that shocked that Saber managed to stab them. Thus, Arwen is surprised that Saber killed them. Maybe she can question a little longer, but what would honestly be the point of writing that additional line of dialogue? She'd still be shocked.

_"Reader:Nice edits. Though I have to make a point about blades and armor: it's nearly impossible to cut through plate or chainmail with a blade, especially armor made for a King and infused with prana. Most damage comes in the form of blunt trauma. Even thrusts with a blade will only travel a few centimeters before being stopped, which is why you would stab at joints and gaps in the armor rather than the thick metal part. Bodkin-point arrows can get through plate because of their velocity and their small and uniform cross-section._

_If you want to limit Saber to being a mere human, you at least need to make sure that her armor isn't paper-thin when the plot demands it."_

Perhaps, but judging by the Witch King's strength in the 3rd movie… I think the Nazgul would be pretty good at breaking armor. Two, Saber's armor on her back is actually limited and has a rather large joint at the back that is a good target. I didn't write it this way, but now that I think about it, Saber's armor could be broken there.

But enough of me going on, this chapter is large so enjoy. I'll be keeping in mind the OPness of Saber as time goes by. (wwaaaat she is OP in LOTR terms) It's just those earlier chapters were written before I fully comprehended how powerful Saber was. For LOTR fans, I'll be sure to balance her against everybody else though. I'm not saying she isn't going to be weaker than Legolas… she's stronger for sure, but she can't take on anything too big and has a rather big limit on her Excalibur that… eg. welllll that's spoilers.

**Chapter 3: The Council**

Saber made her way to the balcony where the Council of the Ring was to be held, Excalibur sheathed in Avalon, armor clinking as she marched. She wore her blue dress that the Elves had cleaned and sewed. Her armor had also been mended by the elves, to the point where she could not tell that it had been damaged in the first place. Her left arm was covered with a short blue cloak trimmed with ermine. She had been feeling a bit chilly so the elves had lent it to her.

Saber chuckled to herself softly. If she had her crown, she'd look like her old, kingly self, but as it is, it was better to make an impression, but not reveal her Royal lineage. She had no kingdom to rule over after all.

Dwarves, elves, men, a hobbit and a wizard were all sat around in a rough semi-circle. Saber took the empty seat next to Frodo, who had Gandalf to his left. Several of the men and the dwarves raised their eyebrows at her regal dress, but did not comment on it.

"Strangers from distant lands ... friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite...or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate...this one doom…" said Elrond ominously.

Elrond gestured to the centre of the council "Bring forth the ring, Frodo." The Hobbit did as he was told, and as he sat it down on the pedestal, shocked expressions washed over the councilmembers features. Saber's remained unflinching, as did Strider's, Gandalf's and Elrond's.

A man, around forty, with dark brown hair and a well-shaped beard stood, an eager expression on his handsome features. Saber had inquired as to the other members of the council from Gandalf and Elrond. She believed his name was Boromir, Captain of Gondor, from the Kingdom of Gondor that was closest to Mordor.

"It is a gift... a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay... by the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy...let us use it against him!"

Saber thought these weren't bad reasons, but the idea of using the ring against its own master seemed preposterous to her.

Strider evidently felt the same. "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone...it has no other master."

Boromir looked at Strider, his eyes cool. "And what would a ranger know of this matter?"

An elf, with platinum hair and perfect features that all elves had, stood. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of the kingdom of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance."

As the elf berated Boromir, Saber blinked and stared at the ranger who had accompanied them. _Strider_ was the heir to the Kingdom of Gondor? She narrowed her eyes, why was he not ruling Gondor? He should be protecting his people from the evils of Mordor! Not running around in the backcountry as a ranger of all things!

Yet, Aragorn seemed almost embarrassed and reluctant. He even gestured and asked the elf, Legolas, to sit down in that odd language of his.

Boromir snarled. "Gondor needs no king."

"Every kingdom needs its king." Eyes turned to stare at Saber whose green eyes had hardened. Raising an eyebrow, Boromir strolled over so he stood in front of Saber's chair.

"What would you know of anything, young man?"

Aragorn spoke up. "She's a woman, Boromir, and she slew two Nazgul when confronted with five. And it appears she killed them permanently." Saber noticed that Aragorn's eyes were still observing her. Not suspiciously, but out of keen interest and curiosity.

Boromir's eyes widened, but Saber continued to meet his gaze as she slowly rose to her feet. She was almost a foot shorter than Boromir, and had a more slender figure, but she somehow seemed to equal his stature.

"My sex is of little consequence, but as the last knight of a fallen kingdom, I would know better than most about what a kingdom needs." She glared at the ring, and its admittedly beautiful, golden sheen. Gandalf and Elrond had told her a little more about the folly of its previous wielders like Gollum, and the more she learned, the more she detested such a thing.

Stepping past Boromir, Saber addressed the council as she did when she was king to her knights. "Aragorn is right. The Ring cannot be used against Sauron. Besides, its effective uses are limited. It makes one person go invisible, but it cannot hide them from a Nazgul, who will always follow the Ring." She glanced at the lone hobbit on the council. "Frodo was nearly killed on our journey here, despite using the Ring at one point, and this was through territory that had not been conquered by our enemy. There is little point in using this ring as a weapon against its own master. We have but one logical choice." She paused. "The ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for?" said a red-bearded Dwarf. Before anybody could stop him, he charged forward and smashed his axe on the Ring. Upon contact, the axe shattered, sending pieces flying. Saber barely managed to block several splinters with her armored arm, and once she had brushed the splinters away, she fixed Gimli with a glare.

It was not that she was mad at Gimili for trying. Just at the mess he made. She had considered using Excalibur, but after asking for Frodo for a look...

* * *

_A few days ago…_

"Frodo, may I have a look at the Ring?" asked Saber. The pair were walking from breakfast. Rivendell provided excellent fare that Saber enjoyed with great gusto, and Frodo had been eating quite a lot since his recovery.

Frodo jumped his eyes filling with fear. "Why?"

"I want to see if my blade has any chance of destroying it," explained Saber.

Frodo nodded. He had seen Arthur's invisible sword kill a Nazgul. Perhaps it could destroy the ring? He lifted the chain and pulled the ring out for Arthur to see.

In an instant, Saber stepped away her eyes wide. The One Ring was like nothing she had ever encountered and the sheer density of prana she could sense from it… her own prana paled laughably against it. It was an item more potent, more powerful than the Fuyuki Grail itself, and by many times over.

Even more insidious was the fact she could hear the whispers of a sibilant voice in her mind. Avalon and her innately high magic resistance seemed to make the voice incoherent, but the fact she could hear anything at all through _both_ of those shields…

"You heard it?" asked Frodo.

"Yes, do you?"

"Sometimes. You can't destroy it can you?" asked Frodo quietly.

Saber shook her head. Even though the 13 Restrictions seal could be lifted, even Excalibur's Noble Phantasm would not be able to destroy The Ring. It simply was that well protected.

Named by the knights of the Round Table, The13 Restrictions of Camelot formed part of the two-part seal that locked Excalibur Proto, her original blade, not the servant item she used. If she released Invisible Air, and if half of the restrictions criteria were fulfilled, the seal would be lifted and she could use Excalibur's devastating prana burst attack. The conditions were:

Innocents must not be in target area of attack or possibly endangered by the attack

Sir Bors, one of the achievers of the Holy Grail in Britain, had chosen this particular restriction. He had been a jolly man, but also incredibly pious and righteous, though he was forced to side with Lancelot.

Innocents must not be affected by the after effects of the attack (Percival)

Sir Percival, another achiever of the Holy Grail, had chosen this one in order to elaborate on Sir Bors restriction. He had been another incredibly righteous knight in her service, but had retired shortly after seeing the Grail to become a hermit.

Innocents must be in immediate, perilous, danger

Lancelot. The knight of knights. The right hand that had turned itself against her when she had been forced to order Guinevere's execution. He had made this restriction in order to allow Saber to use Excalibur, but only when the time was right.

The battle must be an honourable one

Gawain, her most loyal supporter, but in some ways the one who hurt her the most. He had always strove to promote the king's ideals and place her on the highest pedestal. Yet, in doing so, he was one of the catalysts that escalated the division between her knights and Mordred's supporters.

The battle must be for the glory of Britain

Sir Caradoc, Guinevere's father, her father-in-law. He never liked her, and though he had joined her service he was always wary of her abilities. This was likely why he had made this restriction, in order to make sure she used Excalibur's prana burst abilities only for Britain. Now it acted as a permanent restriction, as Britain had fallen. She grimaced, even now Caradoc was causing problems for her.

The enemy must be more powerful than yourself

Sir Ector, her foster father, had been a wise knight who taught her that great power must be exercised sparingly, and thus created this restriction. Secretly, she suspected he did this to prevent her from being alienated from the rest of her knights due to her overwhelming might.

The enemy must have pushed the king and her comrades to the brink of defeat

Kay, Ector's son, her foster brother, he had thought the same as her father. They hadn't been the closest of siblings, but they had been raised together, and thus Kay sometimes saw his king as his sister. He had thereby created the restriction in the same spirit as his father, which made sense given Excalibur's mana cost and area of effect also made it impractical in small unimportant engagements.

Your comrades or the Knights of the Round Table must be in danger, but not be endangered by the upcoming attack

Gaheris, was Gawain's brother and while not a particularly great knight, had been incredibly loyal to his comrades and his older brother, whom he exalted. He made this restriction to help protect Saber's comrades from Excalibur's attack. Not that he didn't trust Saber, he just realized that decisions are not as easy to make in the heat of battle.

One of your comrades or a Knight of the Round Table has requested you unleash this attack despite the danger

Gareth was Gaheris's twin. Also loyal to his fellow knights, he nonetheless realized Gaheris's restriction was a difficulty that had to be balanced, so he created this restriction as opening for Saber to justify her use of Excalibur.

The attack must be made to uphold the king's ideals

Galahad, Lancelot's illegitimate son and one of her most gallant knights as well as the most pure had dictated this restriction, but also an opening for her to use Excalibur. He was as loyal to her as Gawain, and more chivalrous than Lancelot. Yet, he never tried to put Saber on a pedestal like Gawain, and always tried to play the peacemaker. Some of her knights had said he had ascended into heaven after seeing the grail. Galahad had actually embarked on a journey around the world to spread the legends of King Arthur and his Knights, as well as to save all innocents. She knew because he had told her, Lancelot and his mother before leaving.

The king's attack must be made to save those or that whom she is in love with

Tristan, one of her most troubled knights, but the most stalwart believer in true love, which was why he worded his restriction this way. Thanks to a nefarious potion, he had fallen in love with Iseult, wife of King Mark who was his mentor, which forced him to commit adultery with her. When it had finally worn off, Tristan and Iseult continued to see each other, until Iseult was tried for adultery. Tristan had saved her, and eventually made peace with King Mark, before settling down with a Iseult of a different name. He had advised her to spare Guinevere and make peace with Lancelot, but she could not as the duties of a king and to justice outweighed her duties to her friend. He did not question her decision, but had fallen at Camlann like so many others.

The king must not endanger her life through the cost of using this attack

Sir Bedivere, the only senior knight that had survived Camlann and who after denying her two times, carried her last wish to return Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake. She knew he had been in love with her, not in the romantic sense, but in that he loved her for the woman she was, and also wished for her true happiness, and so created this restriction to protect her from overexering herself. He had thus been close to her, but while she never spurned his attempts, she had been too immersed in her duties to respond to them.

The king must truly wish to unleash this attack

The final restriction had been created by Mordred, her illegitimate daughter that had disguised herself in order to become a knight. She was a homunculus made by Saber's half-sister's Morgana's sorcery and Saber's own quasi-sperm, which Merlin had temporarily granted her the ability to produce. Morgana had promptly stolen the sperm through seducing Saber with a spell, then apparently combined that with one of her own eggs to give birth to Mordred.

Morded… she had been disgusted at her own imperfection and method of creation, and was always jealous of normal people, but had always possessed a childhood innocence. This had shaped her to become the knight that admired her king, Arthur, the most. As the years passed, she only strove harder to become the very image of her "godlike father."

From this admiration did Mordred create Saber's opinion, perhaps the wisest of all the restrictions that bound Excalibur. Though the restriction was conceived out of the homunculus's innocent nature, it would help prevent Saber from ever being blackmailed, or coerced into using Excalibur's devastating power, but also entrusted the judgement of appropriateness of the attack to Saber's hands. It was the ultimate declaration of admiration that would also protect the king she worshipped.

Mordred eventually was told that she was the result of her mother's plotting, but instead of hatred, she was filled with joy. She was closest to the king in blood, and it gave her the belief that she, the "son" of the king was fit to be her successor.

However, when Saber had rejected Mordred, the knight, her daughter, had turned on her with all the rage of a thousand dragons. She had thought Saber dismissed her because of her relation to Morgan, that the king viewed her only as a child born of wedlock. Britain and Camelot's fall had been the outcome, as well as a recurring question that Saber kept asking herself.

For Saber _hadn't_ rejected Mordred due to her lineage. She had never even blamed Mordred for her mother's plotting. She had refused to recognize her because she did not have _the capacity of a king_. Mordred was a great knight, but Saber had known that her great jealousy of normal humans, and her uncontrolled temper, would make her a terrible king.

But now, Saber could only ask herself this. Would Camelot's fall have been avoided, had she let Mordred down just a little easier? Or could she have bent the rules for once in her life to allow Mordred to have at least a chance?

"Frodo," said Saber finally. Frodo blinked. Arthur had been silent for a long time as if she as remembering a distant memory. It was something Frodo observed time and time again with the knight, who always looked a bit sad when she did that.

"I may not be able to destroy the Ring, but I can promise you that I'll do my best to protect you," said Saber smiling.

A bit relieved, Frodo returned her smile.

* * *

_Back to the present..._

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," spoke Elrond, snapping Saber's memory back to the present.

It was then Elrond's eyes hardened. "The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom...only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." Examining the entire council, Elrond made his final pronouncement.

"One of you must do this."

Silence. No one in the council spoke.

Boromir was the first to break the silence. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust...the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Saber agreed wholeheartedly. As depressing as the picture Boromir was painting, she had perused some maps of Middle Earth and Mordor appeared to have only one entrance. It was the enemy's stronghold and to take the weapon that would complete their enemy into his heartland was madness.

Sitting back down in her chair, Saber tried to think, but it wasn't helped by the bickering that erupted between the dwarves, men, and elves on who would take the Ring. Even Gandalf was getting involved.

"I will take it." Saber blinked and turned to Frodo, her eyes wide. Had he just said what she thought she had said?

"I will take it!" yelled Frodo rising to his feet. The council was silenced as they turned to Frodo, stunned.

"I will take the ring to Mordor." Frodo paused. "Though I do not know the way."

Saber turned to Gandalf and shook her head. Frodo was too small. He had already been nearly killed, but the wizard, though he looked like the most sorrowful man in the world, took a deep breath.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," said Gandalf solemnly.

Aragorn stood up next, " If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." To Saber's surprise, he then knelt at Frodo's feet. "You have my sword."

Legolas also stood forward. "And you have my bow."

"And my axe," declared Gimli.

Boromir walked toward Frodo, a look of respect on his features. "You carry the fate of us all, little one." Glancing towards Elrond and Gandalf he nodded.

"If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done," said Boromir, his lips turning up, just a little.

Finally, Saber strode forward. "Despite my best efforts, my kingdom fell." Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered that bloody field.

Shaking away her memories, she lowered her head and placed her right hand over her heart. "I will not let an entire free land fall to darkness as well. Besides—" Saber smiled at Frodo "—I made a promise to you and I will keep it."

Frodo swallowed, his eyes wide as he stared at all the fighters pledging themselves to help him. Arthur in particular. He had been told she was willing to sacrifice her own health just to make sure he'd survive the poison without any ill effects.

"Thank you, Sir uhhh Arthur," said Frodo.

Sensing Frodo's stumbling over her gender Saber thought for a moment. "You can call me Arturia," said Saber, a small smile on her face.

"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" yelled a voice. Samwise Gamgee sprung out. Saber glanced at Elrond. Wasn't this supposed to be a secret council?

"Or us! We're coming too! You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," declared Merry, popping out from behind Sam.

"Anyway...you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest...thing…" said Pippin.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," quipped Merry, almost breaking Saber's stoic mask.

Elrond examined the group with a thoughtful smile. "Ten companions, you shall be the "Fellowship of the Ring"."

The pride that Saber felt welling in her heart raised her chin just a little higher. A straightforward quest like she had gone on with Merlin in the earliest days of her reign. This one was far more important and dangerous than any she had undertaken, but at least her course was clear. This… was something she could do.

"Great. Where are we going?" asked Pippin.

Saber pinched her forehead with the fingers of her armored gauntlet. Pippin would need to be watched.

* * *

She never thought she'd be so sad to leave Rivendell, but as Saber, her pack and supplies on her shoulder, walked toward the mustering area, there was a longing in her heart to stay. This place… was what she wished Avalon to be. What she had been striving for all her years as king. To be able to live like this for a few days... It was good enough, but her greedy heart wanted more.

Her greedy stomach was also telling her to stay. Since she needed food to produce the Prana that enabled her combat prowess, she always ate a lot, and she had never had such great food in her life. The fact that most of the dishes had been vegetarian or food that usually was too light for her liking had opened Saber's eyes to some new culinary choices.

"Arturia," said Elrond, approaching her.

"Lord Elrond, thank you once more for your hospitality," replied Saber, bowing, but instead found Elrond raising his hand.

"You need not bow to a lord, Your Majesty," said Elrond, bowing instead.

Saber blinked, and stared up at Elrond. "How long have you known?"

"Ever since I met you, for you bear yourself like king Elendil himself. Only a rare group of people in history can even begin to imitate that kind of bearing," remarked Elrond.

One might think it odd that Elrond could actually tell a person's identity through their posture, but Saber knew Elrond's explanation was true. It was just like how she read enemy servants when she first met them in order to glean clues as to their identity. Elrond, an immortal elf who had interacted with countless people, would easily be able to tell the difference between a normal person, and a person of authority.

Unable to meet Elrond's eyes, Saber's gaze dropped to the floor. "Then you know my kingdom fell." Elrond nodded. It had been fairly obvious task to connect the dots after he had realized she was a king.

Saber sighed, and bit her lip. "Is the king of a fallen kingdom truly a king, Lord Elrond? Or is she a failure of one?"

"If the kingdom fell despite the fact the king did her best to lead her people and protect them as righteously as she could, then how can the king be labeled a failure?" asked Elrond.

"But what if that king never truly _led_ her people? What if that king followed her own ideals to the point where she was abandoned?" asked Saber her tone bitter. Alexander's words, the servant Rider, his words continued to ring through Saber's head.

_You saved your subjects, but you never led them._

_She remembered the bloody field, Camlann, the mass of deaths under her feet and the screams of the dying. It was a slaughter as Britain torn asunder by civil war involving its own protectors. _

_You are but a little girl, bound by the false idol of a king who serves others but not himself!_

"Then perhaps that person is a horrible king," said Elrond. Saber winced, and then blinked as Elrond placed a hand on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. "But she is also in my opinion, the only king worth admiring. For despite blood, privilege, or status, she put herself above the lowliest peasant and shouldered the heaviest load. People may not admire her burden, but they will admire her courage."

Saber swallowed, hard, as Elrond reached into the long sleeves of his robes and drew something out.

"Take it, for the journey ahead, so that you may never be alone, even in your darkest hours."

It was a small, stuffed lion, beautifully sewn with durable threads and tough, but reasonably soft cloth. Saber hastily placed it in the space behind her breastplate and collarbone.

Bowing, once again, her arms tightly clasped to her sides, Saber croaked. "Lord Elrond...thank you." She was glad her eyes were hidden by her hair.

**Author's note**: I like fatherly Elrond. In the books (I've read the lotr wiki) Elrond is actually a pretty nice guy, just concerned for his daughter (for understandable reasons) and it's no wonder he's rather grim in the original trilogy movies, but shows more brevity in The Hobbit. The times were darker after all. Also, as a former confidant to Isildur and mentor to Aragorn, I'm pretty sure Elrond is one of the best people to help guide Saber. To what? Well only time will tell.

I've taken a couple of liberties with the Knight of Round Table lore combining it with what the wiki says on them with what I know of them and what popular Arthurian lore seems to be. Mordred… well there's a reason why I went into so much detail for her. ;)

Also, since this was a long chapter, so I'll be delaying on updates until I finally get the Moria arc/chapter completely written.


	4. Chapter 4: Gaps and Passes

**Chapter 4: Gaps, and Passes**

**Author's note: **This… is where I begin a few things.

A short comedy/clues for story Omake will be posted at the end of the chapter.

Sometimes I will refer to Saber as Arturia, particularly if it is coming from the perspective of a Fellowship member. After all, nobody on The Fellowship calls Saber Saber after all.

Also, the shipping of Saber and Boromir will commence, which I think is an interesting pairing that has promise. If you don't like it please tell me, but I'm not moving my stance. In this fanfiction, I'd like to expand Boromir's role in the film as we only seem to see a very limited aspect of him. Also, they are of similar age, well Saber's technically 1000, but if we were to assume her age from Lancelot and everybody around her, who were actually her contemporaries, she's had to have lived for about more than 30 years which would give enough time for her to have a "Golden Reign" and an eventual fall. As they said in the legend and typemoon wiki, its just that Avalon kept her looking young. Also, Boromir is 41, therefore their age is actually not too far off though Saber looks like she's 19.

* * *

"Get away from the blade, Pippin." Boromir cut down, his sword clashing on Pippin's. "On your toes." Pippin jumped away. "Good, very good. I want you to react, not think."

Saber allowed the ends of her lips to curl up slightly as Boromir instructed Merry and Pippin how to fight. She would comment, but she had her own students. Besides, Aragorn was doing quite well with his quips.

"Frodo, Sam, try that pattern again, ten times. This time, with more power in the stabs," she ordered. The two Hobbits nodded and obediently began to make their way through the basic sword pattern Saber had taught them. Head block, low block, side block, followed by a step forward and a diagonal slash, and so forth.

"Arturia, don't you think you should actually use a blade in order to teach them?" asked Boromir. He had finally managed to extricate himself from the devils that were Merry and Pippin.

"My sword's form is too challenging for a beginner to duel against. Also, it is necessary for the students get the basic form down first before learning anything too advanced, or else they will develop bad habits that will get them killed in battle," said Saber, watching Frodo and Sam closely.

"Spoken like a true drillmaster, but we have little time before they might face combat. Surely one-on-one practice would be more practical?" said Boromir.

"You mean that tomfoolery that you and your "students" were showing me?" responded Saber coldly, eyes narrowed as Sam and Frodo went through a particularly difficult part of the pattern.

"You doubt my skill, sir knight?"

Saber glanced at Boromir. "I cannot judge it when I have not seen it," she answered honestly.

Boromir rubbed his chin, and began to buckle his shield on. "Then why don't we give our students a demonstration?"

Raising an eyebrow, Saber told Frodo and Sam to stop before she followed Boromir to a flat, sandy area of the hill they were camped.

Boromir drew his sword first and raised it in a salute. Saber drew her Invisible Air coated Excalibur, but to Boromir's eye, it looked as if Arturia had taken a stance… without actually holding a sword.

"Uhh Saber, we are waiting for you to draw your blade," said Boromir, frowning at Arturia's clasped hands. It looked as if she was holding something, but he couldn't see anything. Though, there seemed to be some sort of… warping in the air in front of her.

Saber smirked and brought her blade up, and slashed at the rock below her. With nary a spark, a thin cut appeared on the rock, raising Boromir's, Legolas's and Gandalf's eyebrows in surprise.

Gimli was far more vocal in his gasp and splutter. "What type of sorcery is that?"

Saber gave a few demonstratory swipes. "Invisible Air. It is a magical enchantment that coats my sword with a razor-sharp sheath of compressed wind surrounding a vacuum. This renders my blade nearly invisible to the naked eye, and increases its cutting power."

"What a cunning enchantment," said Boromir in awe.

Aragorn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It would make it impossible for an opponent to judge the length of your blade. Ingenious. Can you extend it over a wider area or larger object?" Saber nodded, addressing the ranger's astute question.

Legolas's narrowed almost to pinpricks. "You're right Aragorn. I can just judge the length of the blade, but barely. It is as if my sight is being bent and distorted all around it."

Saber smiled and saluted with her sword. "An accurate assessment, Legolas. Shall we begin, Boromir?"

Boromir nodded and the two fighters sprang at each other.

From what Saber had seen of Boromir while he was teaching, she knew his bladework was precise, and his use of the shield was effective. So for a normal man, Boromir was an excellent fighter. However, Saber had the overwhelming advantage of her Prana Burst ability. By concentrating the massive amount of mana she had and releasing it, her smaller body could keep up and even overpower Boromir's strikes.

The problem with that ability is that it required concentration and timing, but Saber had fought so many battles, that her instincts were honed to the point that surprise attacks were practically useless against her. Combined, her abilities should easily overpower Boromir.

For a time, they continued to exchange stabs, cuts, lunges, slashes and blocks, Saber restraining the amount of prana she put into them. Boromir often resorted to his shield to parry Excalibur's blows as he could not judge for the length of the blade or its movements. The first time he had blocked though, his eyes had widened at the weight of Saber's strike and he nearly buckled.

Saber reinforced her sword again as she blocked Boromir's blade and stepped back to dodge his shield bash. She had not broken a sweat, and Boromir was panting. Yet, he was not going down as quickly as she expected. She using but a tiny fraction of her prana output, but she was hitting him rather hard. Frowning, Saber added more prana to her body and lunged forward feinting to Boromir's leg, but bringing Excalibur up and down. He _just_ managed to get his shield under, his teeth clenched as he blocked.

It was then Saber noticed that Boromir stepped back and to the side, allowing the curved surface of his shield to redirect the force of her attack, so that he was never taking the full weight of the blow. Even so, he had nearly buckled under Saber's newest strike, but by doing so he managed to keep his grip on his shield.

"Clever, you are redirecting the force of my strikes," said Saber.

"Orcs hit pretty hard, so I had to pick up that skill. I am amazed though. How can such a little girl like you hit so heavily—" Boromir lunged forward, bringing his sword down onto Excalibur in a two handed blow. Saber reinforced her body and met his block, before forcing him back. Not that it was an effortless task as Boromir was a man at the peak of his condition.

"I use the prana or mana in my body to augment my strength. It also provides energy that fuels my scabbard's healing properties," explained Saber lunging forward.

"So you're a wizard?" asked Boromir, wisely using the flat of his blade to somewhat clumsily knock the invisible sword aside. His eyes were narrowed as he carefully observed Saber's movements in order to ascertain her actions. The rest of their companions had gathered to watch... and were Gimli and Legolas betting on the outcome?

"No. I am a knight. I just use prana," said Saber, deciding not to tell Boromir she had the prana output of a dragon, whose blood ran in her veins. If Gandalf knew Merlin, who was the one that granted her this ability, he would probably recognize her. Lord Elrond's words had been some comfort to her, but she liked where she was in the group who recognized as a knight, an exceptionally powerful one, but only as a knight.

Not as a king of a fallen country.

"Then you were probably the best knight of your realm," said Boromir gingerly. To defeat a Nazgul meant that the girl was a master swordswoman, but now that Boromir was actually fighting Arturia, he realized it was an understatement. She was like an elf who had studied swordcraft all her life, and Boromir could tell that Arturia was holding back. It was only his vast experience as Captain of Gondor that allowed him to vaguely predict Arturia's next attack in order to block it.

He disengaged and began to circle Saber, looking for an opening in her posture. Boromir could tell Arturia's sword was a straight-edged blade of some kind. A broadsword, and each broadsword had the characteristic weakness of giving the wielder a slower time to react to attacks, due to their sometimes unwieldy length and weight. He decided take advantage of that fact.

"No, I was not," said Saber in reply, matching Boromir's footsteps. She knew that honor of the best knight in her realm went to Lancelot. And even he…

Saber tightened her grip on her sword as she remembered Lancelot's final fate. He had gone mad with hate for her for sentencing Guinevere, his love. So much anger had filled him that he had become the Berserker class of the Fourth Grail War, where he had met his end on the sword she now wielded.

She was so caught up in her own memories that Saber was taken aback as Boromir, who noticed her slight loss of concentration, charge forward. She was in no danger though thanks to her super-keen instincts and long years of practice. Using a large burst of her prana, Saber brought her sword up to block the blade, which she followed by a prana reinforced kick to Boromir's stomach.

Boromir gasped as he was sent flying backward into a rock where he slumped down. By Elendil, he had seen Arturia's eyes waver for a second and charged, but she had reacted so quickly, it was as if she had expected him to attack her. Coughing, the man gripped his ribs. He felt like a troll had kicked him, and this little girl wasn't even half the size of one.

Eyes widening, Saber sheathed Excalibur and rushed forward. "Boromir! I'm sorry, I lost focus and forgot to hold back."

"If that is what happens when you hold back, I'd hate to fight you when you aren't," groaned Boromir as he sheathed his sword and accepted Saber's hand.

Saber averted her gaze and then gasped as she went flying forward. "Aaaah!"

Instead of hoisting himself up, Boromir had yanked on Saber's hand, causing her to fall forward. He had intended it as a joke, a sly bit of payback, but Saber was so light even with her armor that she collapsed onto Boromir instead.

The two turned red due to the close proximity of their faces, and immediately scrambled apart from each other, brushing each other off and standing up. Saber could see Gandalf smiling knowingly, while Aragorn and Legolas smirked. Gimli and the Hobbits, even Frodo, couldn't help but chuckle.

"Sorry, I meant it as a joke," coughed Boromir. He was finding it rather difficult to stop thinking about Arturia's beautiful eyes though.

"None taken," said Saber, pointedly not looking at Boromir's face.

Just then, Legolas spotted something in the sky. Alarm spreading across his elven features he pointed to the air and shouted. "Crebain from Dunland!"

Saber had no idea what he meant, but the Fellowship, after seeing the fast-approaching black cloud, grabbed their equipment and began to hide. Saber found a bush and ducked into it, yanking Pippin after her and putting her hand over his mouth. He always got into trouble, so she was making him a priority target.

The dark, bird-like things screeched by, keeping low to the ground, but they did not see the Fellowship. When they had finally departed, the Fellowship emerged from their hidey holes.

Gandalf looked worriedly at the sky. "Spies of passage South is being watched." Saber grimaced. Gandalf had told her earlier that Saruman, one of the most powerful wizards, had betrayed the Peoples of Middle Earth, and from the looks of it, Saruman was going to hound them for a long time.

Pointing up to the snowy mountain Gandalf declared. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!"

* * *

_A few days later…_

The Lady of the Lake had blessed Saber, so she would never be impeded by water, granting her the ability to walk on water. Unfortunately, unlike Legolas who could somehow walk on snow, Saber didn't have that option. What she could do though was use her Prana Burst to reinforce her muscles and literally plough through any embankment or snow, using Excalibur's Invisible Air to help her bash through more difficult drifts. This was how she ended up leading the Fellowship up the mountain, with Gandalf giving her directions.

It also meant though that she missed the entire exchange over the ring between Boromir, Frodo and Aragorn, and only found out when Frodo told her in the evening.

"Boromir did that?" Saber glanced at the man, who was merrily having a brief snowball fight with Gimli, Pippin and Merry. In their spar a few days ago, he had been courteous, cunning, but all in all a good mannered person. Now he looked… relaxed, nothing like the entranced man Frodo had described.

"I didn't believe it too, but the look in his eyes…" Frodo shuddered as he placed his hand over his chest. "I know what I saw."

Saber narrowed her eyes at Boromir, recalling his speech at the Council. She didn't doubt Frodo for a second. She knew what love for anything, in this case, for one's own kingdom, could do to a desperate man. Thanks to Lancelot.

"Don't worry Frodo, I'll watch him," said Saber.

* * *

A day later they were ambushed by a blizzard. It had come out of nowhere, taking the Fellowship by surprise as they transverse along a treacherous ledge. Half-blinded and biting back against the dagger-like waves of snow that assaulted them, the Fellowship forged on. Boromir carrying Merry, Aragorn taking Frodo and Sam, while Saber grabbed hold of Pippin. That is… until Legolas cursed.

"There is a fell voice in the air," he stated his eyes looking for the source of a ominous chant that the wind carried and amplified.

"Saruman!" Gandalf shouted as the mountain suddenly shook.

Using her gauntlet to shield her face and Pippin, whom she was holding, Saber blocked several pieces of shale and clumps of snow fell from the cliff above. Everybody else managed to dodge them by hugging the mountainside.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain. Gandalf! We must turn back!" yelled Aragorn.

"No!" roared Gandalf, and he raised his staff and began to chant, his words resonating through the howling wind. But even as he spoke, the wind grew stronger, as did the menacing voice in the air.

There was a lightning flashed, and then the mountain heaved, sending rock, snow and ice cascading down the mountain. The Fellowship pressed their backs against the narrow cover provided by the overhang above them. Boromir, Saber and Aragorn grabbed hold of the Hobbits and braced themselves as they were buried under sleet and rock.

One by one, arms and heads punched out of Saruman's attempt to bury them alive. Legolas, Gandalf, Boromir and Aragorn emerged from the snow with their Hobbits, Merry, Sam and Frodo. However, as Boromir looked around, he saw that Arturia and Pippin were nowhere to be seen.

That was when they noticed an invisible gap in the snow, which promptly exploded outwards revealing Saber and a shivering Pippin.

"Too short. Had to use prana," coughed Saber to the relieved chuckles of her companions. Being the shortest and only woman amongst her tall male compatriots could be a bit of a drawback.

Turning to Gandalf, Saber narrowed her eyes. "Gandalf, Saruman knows we are coming and since you can't fight him off, he will harass us the entire way," screamed Saber through the howling wind. Her prana allowed her to reinforce herself against the storm and against any future rockfalls, but without warm food and at the rate she was burning it, she'd drop down lifeless before they exited the pass. Everybody else would have frozen to death long before her.

Boromir nodded. "It is as Arturia says. We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city. There is no point avoiding Saruman's gaze if we freeze to death!"

Aragorn shook his head. "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Saber agreed, though it wouldn't be as bad as if they went through this pass. She'd honestly take the Gap of Rohan over this cold hellhole.

"We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria," suggested Gimli.

The option seemed sensible, and Gimli had spoken of the fabulous halls and the hospitality of his cousin Balin over the course of the trips, as well as muttered about it during the storm. Yet, Gandalf had a very worried look on his face, causing an even colder pit formed in Saber's stomach. If _Gandalf the Wizard_ of all people who was a colleague of _Merlin_ was worried, then what in the world could they be possibly facing in Moria?

As Frodo made his decision, Saber gripped Excalibur, feeling the comforting grip through her gauntlet. Whatever their fellowship was going to face, she was determined not to falter.

* * *

_Isengard..._

From his Palantir chamber in the Orthanc tower of Isengard, Saruman sneered as he watched the Fellowship make their way down from the Pass of Caradhas. "So they will take the road to Moria, and risk the more dangerous road. They will not survive the long dark easily." His hands stroking his long beard, Saruman watched the smallest of the warriors, a blonde haired lady knight, help one of the halflings down, and the fallen wizard frowned.

"But then again… they might survive, for they have unexpected help. I wonder…" Saruman turned to a nearby orc guard.

"Bring our new guest here. I think she will be very interested in this," said Saruman. The orc nodded and scurried away. A few minutes later, and he returned with five others, dragging a limp, blonde-haired girl dressed in a blood-stained shift with them, who they tossed onto the floor. Saruman turned around to meet furious green eyes. They were moist with pain from the numerous injuries on her body, but they blazed with rage.

"I told you, I serve nobody, and I will not swear an oath to you," spat the the girl, her hatred undiminished.

Saruman's eyes glinted in amusement. After the destruction of two of his Nazgul, his master, Sauron, had instructed Saruman to start looking for replacements, which was when the White Wizard had sensed a beacon of hate floating in the chaos.

It turned out to be a spirit floating in the midst of chaos, the only thing holding her form together was her hate and her pride. So Saruman had fished her out and tried to get her to swear allegiance to him and his master, but she had been… uncooperative. She had a bad history with magi apparently, especially magi who liked scheming and had been incredibly obstinate. He had made numerous overtures, and offered many rewards, but most of them, the later ones, had ended up on her now battered frame, with little success.

"Oh I'm not asking you to serve me girl—"

"Don't call me that!" Saruman stepped back as the half-dead girl screamed and lunged at him, hands extended like claws. Raising his staff he thrust it upwards, sending the girl flying up, before he brought his staff down and the girl, crashing into the ground. Moaning, the girl tried to rise, but only managed to raise her head.

"Now now, I just want to ask if you know someone," said Saruman waving his hand over his palantir, a dark orb that he could use to communicate with Sauron and scry the lands of Middle Earth. Within that orb he began to form an image within its depths.

Despite the blood dripping from her mouth, the girl snorted. "I will have no part in your plotting or sorcery you filthy, twisted, magus—" Saruman levitated the girl, so she can see into the crystal ball, and the blonde-haired, green-eyed swordswoman, who shared the exact same features as the bruised girl.

Her eyes widening, the girl stammered. "A-Arturia…"

"So you do know her?" asked Saruman.

The girl shook, writhing in Saruman's grasp, kicking and punching out at the image in the palantir. "That bastard! How can she be alive! I killed her! I defeated her! She should be dead!"

"You hate her," Saruman stated, grinning as the girl continued to try to destroy the Palantir.

"**Of course I hate her. I've killed her once, but it isn't enough! I want to run my blade through her again and again with my sword before spit on her! Then as the last of her breaths leave her body, I will tell her that she was wrong. **_**That I have proved myself to be the better knight**_**, **_**that I should have been her only successor**_**. ** _**And that I—am—her—son!**_"

Saruman nodded, and set the girl back onto the floor. "Then I shall give you the opportunity to kill your father, Mordred, if you—"

Mordred, The Knight of Treachery, homunculus and illegitimate son of Arturia Pendragon and Morgan Le Fay, looked at Saruman with the joyful eyes of a child who just unwrapped their Christmas present.

"Yes, I'll do anything!"

" —Pledge your eternal allegiance to me," finished Saruman. The wizard smirked as Mordred's anger evaporated into a look of sheer horror.

"You—" Mordred took a deep breath and sneered confidently. "You have no way of enforcing that oath."

But Mordred's sneer faded as Saruman continued to smile. "On the contrary, I just did. Magic is funny that way. Especially that which is not seen. Now get up and kneel, my Knight of Treachery."

Mordred blinked and screeched in fury as her body began to move against her will, despite Saruman not even moving a finger. She threw every last bit of her prana to fighting what she was being forced to do, but gradually, one knee came up, her right first touched the floor, while her whipped back arched down, followed by her lowered head.

Chuckling, Saruman "Until I die, you are bound to my service. Sir Mordred. Now go to your room. I will have words with you later."

Trembling as she continued to fight the control of the magic oath, Mordred bit back tears of humiliation as she staggered out of the chamber.

"**Damn you Saruman!"**

Saruman shook his head. "Anger and hatred. They make people act in such a predictable fashion."

**Author's Ending Note: I must say something in advance. I have never read the entire translation of Fate/Apocrypha, but I've checked some of the Mordred sections just to get an idea of her dialogue and character. She's like… freaking sword-wielding Berserker, particularly toward her "father." However, I have studied the wiki extensively and in this world, Mordred never became a servant. If you do have any tips for her characterization, then please suggest, but don't expect me to immediately follow along as I don't want to jeopardize the plan I have for the story. **

**Also, Saruman… if you think he was big bad evil in the movies… *chuckles. Well then, I think you've just got an idea of how much I am upping his evilness. I honestly think that Mordred… she's stubborn, but her anger for Arturia makes her very predictable, so it's pretty easy for Saruman a Maiar (wizard with demi-god powers) to trap her into a magic oath that forces her to do his bidding. Rage at it if you want, but these are my reasons and I'm sticking to them.**

**Omake:**

_**Mordred: YOU DAMN BASTARD I'M GOING TO KILL YOU 55 YOU %#(*$R #($&amp;#(! #**_

_**Author: ***_**running** _**It'll all get better! It's a momentous plan to get you to… ***_**whispers something to Mordred**

_**Mordred: **_***eyes widen, her eyes moisten slightly.** _**F*** YOU P*** OFF YOU C*** L*** D*** PIECE OF S*** THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT WILL HAPPEN.**_

_**Saber: What will happen?**_

***Mordred glares at Saber and marches away. Saber stares at Mordred, mystified.**

_**Author chuckles. Who knows? Enjoying Saber Lion, Saber?**_

_**Saber: **_***blinks**_**. Saber Lion? who is… **_

***Elrond's stuffed toy pops up from behind Saber's breastplate, and a miniature Saber head pops out from the lion's mouth. **

_**Saber Lion: Gao? **_***makes lion-doggy cutesy eyes at Saber.**

***Saber stares, blushing at the cuteness.**

_**Author: That's all for now folks!**_


	5. Chapter 5: The Watcher of the Water

**Author's note: A shorter, but relatively fun and action packed chapter today :D.**

**Chapter 5: The Watcher of the Water**

"Arturia, what's wrong? You seem to troubled," said Boromir as they stepped over some treacherous rocks. The Fellowship had been making their way toward the West Gate of Moria at the edge of the Misty Mountains. Footing had been problematic as loose shale littered badly kept paths, and the Fellowship had to step carefully as they negotiated their way downwards.

Saber's lips curled, testing another step with her armored foot. "It is of no concern."

"We are companions on this quest are we not? Your concern is our concern," said Boromir, following Arturia's descent. Boromir knew Arturia was a bit of a quiet person, but she had been far more reclusive than usual after they had left the mountain.

Crunching past rock and gravel, Saber sighed. She might as well ask.

"At the Council of the Ring, you said Gondor does not need a king, which suggests that your realm has been ruling itself for a long time. How is it possible your kingdom survived for so long?" asked Saber slowly.

Boromir stiffened slightly. "Why do you ask?"

Saber jumped down from a short ledge and turned to Boromir, her features impassive. "Shortly after the king of my realm died in a civil war, my realm shook itself apart."

Boromir nodded. Now Arturia's question made perfect sense. "Kin-strife. According to what my brother Faramir told me, it happened once in Gondor's history. The kingdom nearly fell in those days. Luckily, King Eldacar slew the pretender Castamir. Still, all of our great cities suffered greatly from that war." Boromir jumped down and landed beside Saber and hesitated, before sighing.

In a hushed voice, he whispered to Saber. "The truth is, Arturia. Gondor's Stewards have ruled in the king's stead as kings in all but name since the line was broken. The Stewards have maintained the kingdom, but my father, the current steward… as Mordor's strength grows, his wanes." Grimacing, Boromir glanced at Frodo, who was helping Gandalf. "That is why I wanted to claim The One Ring for Gondor. I thought it can be used against its master."

"You know it can't," said Saber softly, recalling what Frodo had told her of how Boromir had been momentarily entranced by The Ring.

"I know that!" hissed Boromir. "But a solution must be found. And I will do whatever it takes."

Saber didn't like Boromir's dark look, though she respected his determination. For she would have done anything, short of violating her own codes of chivalry, in order to win the Grail to fulfill her wish.

The King of Conquerors Iskandar had said that: "_A king who regrets his rule is a fool!_" Perhaps he had been right, but in order to prevent her people from having to suffer for the consequences of her rule, Saber was willing to sacrifice everything she had, even if that meant being called a fool. She owed it to all the knights that had died for her. Thus, she would undo all the mistakes she had made in the simplest way possible.

By asking the Holy Grail to prevent her from ever becoming king in the first place.

But thanks to the bastard Kiritsuguru, even that option wasn't open to her now. What she could do though, was to stop this world from being destroyed, and as far as she could see, there was only one solution to Gondor's problem.

"Should you not ask Aragorn to retake the throne?" Saber asked, as the pair continued to traverse the path.

"The Stewards of Gondor have ruled without a king for years. We do not need the line renewed," retorted Boromir.

"Your own admittance that your father's power is waning suggests otherwise Boromir. One cannot rule without the title of king. He can only maintain the kingdom at best," pointed out Saber.

Boromir blinked and gritted his teeth. That logic made sense, but he didn't wish to accept it. It had been hard enough realizing that Denethor II, his father, was losing popularity and recognition from the people. Tax revenues had been the lowest in years, as had enlistment rates. The cities had been drifting away from Minas Tirith and the tension between the lords was growing.

"You may not agree with me, Boromir, but I thank you for sharing this with me. Though may I ask why?" inquired Saber.

Pursing his lips, Boromir replied, "First of all, Gandalf appears to trust your council, as does Lord Elrond. While I am not overly fond of wizards and elves, I would be a fool not to listen to at least listen to their advice." Turning the Saber Boromir voiced something that had been puzzling him for some time. "Also, you seem to be wiser than your age suggests. So wise that I would guess you were a close confidant of your king."

The irony of the statement did not escape Saber, and she chuckled bitterly. "Perhaps, but no more." The two were finally interrupted from their discussion by Gimli's cry.

"The walls of Moria!"

* * *

The cliffs had been spectacular, even in the dusk. It took the appearance of a smooth white, rock wall with a dark lake at its foot. Problem was that the only way to get to the gate had been a narrow rocky beach. Some of them had to step briefly into the water, sending ripples across the murky surface of the pool.

Saber's senses were on high alert, even as Gandalf searched the smooth rock wall between two dead trees. She couldn't help become distracted though as the silver gate of Moria began to shine in the moonlight, a glowing arch tangled with ancient letters of a language Saber could not recognize.

"It reads, "The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter," said Gandalf.

Merry asked, "What do you suppose that means?"

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, speak the password and the doors will open," explained Gandalf, and opening his hands, the wizard chanted… and nothing happened. As the wizard continued to chant, trying various passphrases and other rambling languages, the rest of the Fellowship, settled down for a brief respite, but Saber couldn't.

"Gandalf, I do not mean to rush you, but I do not like this place," said Saber, hand on her invisible sword. Narrow area, lake on one side, cliff on the other, the site screamed "perfect ambush," to her instincts, but there shouldn't be any ambushers…

Aragorn nodded, having just released Sam's pony. "I agree. Merry, Pippin, do not disturb the water!" ordered the ranger. The Hobbits, chastened dropped the stones they had been skipping, except, to the confusion of the pair, the ripples wouldn't stop.

Saber caught that, and her eyes narrowed at the dark pool, filled with limbs of dead trees.

"Legolas, do not be alarmed. It may be nothing, but stay close to the Hobbits. Tell Aragorn and Boromir as well," whispered Saber in a hushed voice, knowing the elf's keen ears would pick up her request. Legolas inclined his head slightly and nonchalantly passed by Aragorn and Boromir, whispering in their ears briefly, before taking up a position near the Hobbits.

"It's a riddle... Gandalf, what's the elvish word for friend?" asked Frodo. Saber glanced at the door. Surely it wouldn't open that easily! Anybody with a rudimentary knowledge of elvish would be able to—

"Mellon," spoke Gandalf, and with a crunch and grunt, the door to Moria opened into a dark hall.

"Seriously, that's the passphrase?" said Saber, disbelievingly.

"I suppose it's sometimes best not to overthink things," said Boromir, shaking his head. He couldn't believe it either. Aragorn and Legolas simply shrugged.

As they entered the hall, Gimli grinned as he sauntered beside Legolas. "So, master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves; roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin...and they call this a Mine…" Gimli snorted. "A mine!"

Saber unconsciously licked her lips as she stepped in after the rest of her companions. Oh food, glorious food. She couldn't wait to sink her teeth into… Her eyes widened as she spotted vague shadows in the dark, and stale air with a long-forgotten odor hit her nose. She knew that smell, but this was older, darker… but where had she smelt something similar?

_Camlann… the smell rotting corpses of men and horse... _

She had already halted and pressed her hand to her mouth as Gandalf lit his spell to reveal the contents of the chamber. Dwarf skeletons. Long dead, strewn about haphazardly in the hall and dressed in armor that sprouted black-feathered arrows, axes and twisted swords.

"This is no mine...it's a tomb!" Boromir said in a hoarse voice.

"No. No. Nooo!" Gimli ran over to one of the corpses, sobbing as he touched the dwarven armor tenderly.

Legolas pulled a crudely shaped arrow out of a skeleton and grimaced. "Goblins!"

In a rasp of steel, the Fellowship drew their weapons. If the goblins had reached here, there was no telling how deeply they had entrenched themselves into Moria.

"Long remnants of some forgotten battle." Saber crouched down on the dusty floor in order to better examine the way the dwarves lay, and her brow furrowed.

_Wait a second… they weren't facing the direction of the doorway, but facing inward and yet all the corpses are lying on their backs. They had been fighting a rearguard action as they tried to escape to the doors, but that area was… empty… _

"They had been trying to… fight their way out? But why are there no corpses by the door or outside of it? They should have been pursued through the doors," said Saber, turning towards the doors from which they had entered from, and the lake beyond it.

"There's a time to ask questions Arturia, and that time is not now! We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," said Boromir as he took slow steps backward.

Nodding, Saber turned around. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she screamed, "Frodo behind you!"

Legolas, who had been hanging near the rear, was faster than Frodo and his fellows as he spun around and saw a black, slimy tentacle from the lake, wrapping around the Ringbearer's ankle. Drawing his knives, the elf slashed the tentacle into pieces, keeping Frodo from being yanked into the lake. And then the lake was suddenly still.

It was then the water exploded with tentacles that slapped Legolas aside and then seized Frodo and Merry. Yelling and screaming, the hobbits were hoisted into the air, watching with horror as the water parted to reveal the horrifying octopus-like beast, but with what seemed like more than twenty tentacles.

Aragorn and Boromir were first out of the gate and splashed into the water in order to cut at the tentacles holding their friends, Saber ran past them toward the water. Boromir was about to tell Arturia to watch out, and gawked as she started to run on top of the water as if it were solid.

"For Camelot!" roared Saber as she dodged tentacles to get close to the monster's face. Whirling her invisible blade, she stabbed downward into the face of the creature. It screeched, its tentacles flailing to knock Saber away from it and high into the air, where it wrapped around the girl's arms and torso with one of its limbs, depriving her of the use of her blade. To the Fellowship's horror, the creature then opened its mouth, positioning itself directly beneath the writhing lady-knight.

"Arturia!" yelled Aragorn as he hacked through another tentacle, releasing Frodo into Boromir's arms. He and Boromir tried to wade through the water to reach Arturia, but they didn't have the same ability as her to walk on water.

As Saber saw the fang-filled maw of the monster growing in her vision, she struggled harder, forcing every bit of her prana into her muscles, but the creature only responded by constricting its grip around her, to the point where Saber could feel her prana-reinforced armor cracking, and her ribs fracturing. Terror, pure and cold, filled her body as she realized that in spite of all her abilities, she was helpless to escape from being devoured.

Then Gimli made his move. "Take this you rotten beasty!" The dwarf, using one of the rusted axes on the floor of the hall, ran and then with a titanic throw, chucked the axe at the lake monster. The axe spun like a top, shearing through the tentacle holding Arturia and dropped her onto the water, which she landed as if hitting rock.

Shakily, Saber rose to her feet, ran past tentacles and hacked down the tentacle wrapping Merry, catching him before he fell into deep water. Cocking her arm back, she tossed him into the arms of his friends on the beach.

"Run. Into the mines!" yelled Gandalf, his staff lighting the way. Nobody disagreed, not even Saber. If she had more knowledge and preparation, defeating the foul creature would be possible, but they were trapped between the cliff, narrow door and the lake. Her Noble Phantasm may be able to destroy the creature, but the resulting landslide it would cause would kill them all, and there was a high chance she'd injure her companions.

Legolas, still wincing from being knocked aside by the tentacles, managed to fire a few arrows to delay the creature, and Gimli threw several more axes that buried itself into the dark form, but the enraged kraken continued to advance, getting closer to Saber, Boromir and Aragorn.

Which was when a blast of wind hit Boromir and Aragorn from behind. It was as if a howling gale had been released right behind them. Above it all though, they could hear Arturia's declaration:

"_**Strike Air: Hammer of the Wind King!"**_

Less than a second later, Boromir and Aragorn found themselves lifted up by Arturia's right arm. Flying toward the door at an impossible speed, they caught up with Gimli and Legolas, and actually passed them, before crashing into the ground.

Just in time too, as the monster of the lake brought the East Door of Moria crashing down behind The Fellowship, plunging them all into darkness.

After a moment, Gandalf's staff shone, clearing away the darkness. Looking older than ever, the wizard trod forward to the head of the party. "We now have but one choice...we must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard...there are older and fouler things than the Orcs in the deep places of the world."

Nodding grimly, Saber nonetheless made her way to Gimli and bowed. "Thank you, Gimli son of Gloin. I owe you my life."

The dwarf chuckled, a sad note still in his voice as he walked past his dead kin. "It was no problem lassie. It would have been a great pity if you were eaten."

"Nevertheless, if you ever wish to ask a favor of me, I will give it to you with interest," said Saber, after a moment's hesitation, she clasped the dwarf's shoulder and squeezed.

As she looked back forward though, she saw Boromir and Aragorn had sidled up beside her.

"Arturia, we owe you our lives," said Aragorn.

Boromir nodded, in agreement with Aragorn for once. "For that you shall always be welcome in Gondor and the house of the Stewards." His eyes travelled back to Saber's sword, invisible, despite being sheathed in Avalon. "Strange... "

Saber raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I swore I saw a flash of gold behind me," said Boromir, he grinned as he saw Arturia smile. "You released Invisible Air at that time, didn't you?"

Saber nodded. "Yes. By doing so I create a blast of wind that can help propel me forward. It was the only way to save you and Aragorn."

"But you are not ready to show us your blade?" asked Aragorn.

Boromir didn't like the fact that Arturia's eyes suddenly hardened at Aragorn's question. "Pray the situation in which I need to show you Excalibur's true form will never arise."

"Excalibur?" The unfamiliar name felt strange in Boromir's tongue, but it was definitely a title befitting of a great sword, like Glamdring, the sword that Gandalf wielded, or Narsil, the broken sword of King Elendil.

"It is my last resort, and it will mean we will be in great mortal peril."

Aragorn sighed as they trod past another dwarfen corpse. "Then it may well be that we will see it soon."

**Omake and Author's note: Deep into Moria our Fellowship goes. Where they will end up, nobody knows.**

**Also, one might say that I'm making Saber remember too much of her memories and be a bit too angsty. Thing is, she's in a land where there are still kings and rulers, as well as crises regarding those issues to be solved. It's only natural that she's being reminded of them so often. During the Grail War, Saber had a solution to her problems at hand as long as she stuck to it (win the Grail war), but this time she doesn't, and with her opening up to others, comes her **

Saber Lion: Gao gao!

55: Yes?

Saber Lion: Gao gao gao gao?

55: You will make an important appearance, don't worry. It just might take a while, but hell it is important.

Saber Lion: _(satisfied) _Gao.


	6. Chapter 6: The Dark and Flame of Moria

**Omake/Author's Note:**

Saber cursed. Her companions were knocked out and the tentacle monster had her in her grasp. Exhausted and without prana, she could do nothing as the tentacle monster coiled a long limb around her chest. With deft flicks the tentacles ripped her armor into pieces and reached for her—

**Saber Lion ***rips the Omake into shreds and glares at **Author **who points at fourth wall. **Saber Lion **lunges at the fourth wall her claws scratching it: GAO! GAO GAO…GAO GGGGG GAO! GRRRAO GAO GAO

**Author**: Rough translation. "What is with you men and tentacles! PERVERT! HENTAI! Suggest another perverted scene like that again and I'll sic Mordred on you after I show the review that had the yuri suggestion"…

**Mordred ***walks up, tired: What is going on… *sees the review.

**Author: ***ducks for cover: Too late. Run for the next chapter readers, the single longest chapter in this entire story. I really don't mind if you leave comments of that type… its just that Saber Lion and Mordred will. Also, if you notice any changes to canon LoTR movie… Saber's entry is having ripple effects...XD

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Dark and Flame of Moria**

As the reluctant heir of Gondor, Aragorn preferred to keep his heritage hidden, not because he didn't want people to tell him to become king, but because people were usually trying to kill him for it. However, as Arturia stomped towards him, Aragorn realized that Legolas's outburst at the Council of the Ring was going to cost him.

The lady knight was supremely honorable, but along with that honor, came a very strict set of beliefs about what it was to be a king. Aragorn had noticed it at the Council of the Ring, and he had overheard part of Boromir and Saber's conversation prior to them entering Moria.

So when Gandalf stopped at the three separate doors at the top of the Mithril mine, not knowing which one led to where, they had stopped for a rest. Arturia though, had strode toward Aragorn. He did not flinch as she approached as he had been expecting this confrontation for a while.

"Aragorn, you are the heir to the throne of Gondor, are you not?" whispered Arturia in a harsh tone.

The ranger paused as he finished off his small piece of salted pork. "Yes. I assume you wish to ask me why I have not taken my seat on the throne of Gondor?"

"You are correct. After all, isn't it your duty to do so?" asked Arturia, pointedly.

Getting up, Aragorn paced across the narrow ledge. "Doing what duty accords us does not always mean we are doing the right thing. There are also many forms of duty."

Arturia scowled. "But aren't the duties of a king is the highest of them all?"

Aragorn gulped. The long walks in the darkness with nothing to hunt or forage must have been wearing on the lady knight. Dark circles were sunken beneath her eyes and she was gripping her sword tightly. It made sense, as Aragorn had noted earlier that Arturia always ate _a lot_, thrice as much as a normal man. It appeared her insane strength and numerous combat abilities seemed to require a very high energy intake.

"Yes, but fulfilling one's duty does not mean one is doing right—"

"In an ordinary person's case, yes, but not for a king. The king's sole duty should be to protect his people, to rule righteously and uphold justice. By definition, his duty is to "do the right thing!" If he purposely breaks it, that king is nothing more than a tyrant!" Arturia's gaze took on an air of disdain. "And if he purposely neglects his duties, then he is nothing but a incompetent coward."

Gritting his teeth, Aragorn met Arturia's defiant glare. "Do not speak of what you do not understand."

Chuckling, Arturia shook her head. "No, I understand perfectly. It is you who does not understand what your absence is doing to your own people. I have talked to Boromir, and it is a miracle Gondor has held itself together for so long. As it is, it is veering toward collapse." Pausing for a moment, Arturia's gaze softened. "I do not begrudge your decision for taking this quest, as the fate of the world hangs in the balance, but the longer you play ranger, the more your people will pay."

Sighing, Aragorn rubbed his forehead. The knight's arguments were strong, and reminded him of what he had known for a long time. Eventually, he would need to return to Gondor and assume his rightful place as king. Arturia's reminder though was as subtle as a blunt hammer.

"Fair enough, but Arturia, why do you say a king's duty is solely to the protection of his people?" asked Aragorn.

"Is that not the definition of a good king?" retorted Arturia, crossing her armored arms.

"Yes, but you should know as well as I do, that there are a variety of methods to achieve that goal. What should a king do then?" asked Aragorn.

"Then that king should uphold his beliefs of what is right, never changing, never yielding, even if it costs him everything," declared Arturia.

Aragorn frowned. The instant response from Arturia suggested she had internalized this creed. But why would a knight memorize something like that? Deciding that it was not his place to pry, Aragorn moved on to his next question.

"But why would you suggest a king really uphold those beliefs at the cost of his own life? Who would lead his people then?"

Aragorn watched as Arturia's mouth opened and closed as she sunk into what the ranger beginning to nickname "phase-outs." These were moments where the knight suddenly became lost in her own thoughts, probably her own memories. Every time she did this, he always noticed her eyes averted and her shoulders slump slightly.

Guilt, along with extreme regret. It was all-too obvious to Aragorn's trained eye. The girl, or woman, Aragorn sometimes wasn't sure exactly which fit Arturia better, but she had made mistakes and had suffered for them.

The question was, was the knight beating herself up for her mistakes for a good reason, or was she doing so senselessly?

"You do not need to answer that question, Arturia. I would just like you to consider it." The knight nodded, seeming somewhat relieved. "But I do wish to ask, how did your kingdom fall?" asked Aragorn in gentle voice.

"Civil war," replied Arturia shortly. She paused for a moment. "The king's half-sister, an evil enchantress cast a spell on the king, resulting in an illegitimate son. That son had been a knight of the king, but when the time was right, he tried to take the throne by force while we were on an expedition to foreign lands. Rallying our forces, we confronted Mordred at a field called Camlann where…" Arturia gritted her teeth. "Our king confronted and slew Mordred, but a mortal blow had been dealt, and he died. Moreover, our knights had wiped each other out."

Mordred… a dread name for a treacherous man, but Aragorn could tell that Arturia hadn't even told half of the story, only the bare bones of it. But it was enough for Aragorn to draw a conclusion as to why Arturia had decided to confront him now of all times.

"Arturia, the death here is affecting you, isn't it? That's why you've been dwelling on the question of kingship," whispered Aragorn.

Sighing, Arturia nodded. "Is it so obvious?"

"You've been spending an awful amount of time just standing by Gimli and making sure he's never without company. But you've also been speaking less, isolating yourself." Aragorn rose to his feet. "Where is the smile that you had when you sparred with Boromir? Where is the fire that was in your eyes when you attacked the lake monster?"

Hesitantly, the ranger placed a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Do not sequester yourself away from others, Arturia, for no living being survives without companionship."

Arturia nodded, a contemplative look on her features. "I understand."

By that time, Gandalf had finally figured out the passage to take, and The Fellowship set off once more.

As Saber walked though, she couldn't help recalling what Aragorn, and even what Elrond had said. Their concern for her, not as a woman, but as a person, was puzzling, but also oddly comforting.

The benefits of companionship and camaraderie… that which she never quite experienced as a distant king, except for her time with Kiritsuguru's wife, Irisviel, during the Grail War. Did she deserve such a thing even when every one of her knights, Guinevere, and even Irisviel, had fallen or suffered because she could not save them? But then again, she was in a new world, with this great opportunity in front of her, without the burden of a king or the duties of a servant. Why should she not take some time to enjoy herself?

Blinking, Saber shook her head to banish the thought from her mind, but she found herself growing accustomed to the idea. The idea of her starting over on Middle Earth… she was doing it right now as she embarked on this new quest. Why couldn't she continue to enjoy her new life afterward? If she had a way to save Britain, she would take it, but she didn't.

"_So what is the point about feeling guilty for a mistake you cannot correct?_" Saber asked herself as they continued through the dark of Moria.

* * *

The Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf! To think that such a short people had built something as magnificent as this… Even in the gloom, Saber felt overwhelmed by the sheer size of the pillared cavern.

"Gimli," said Saber.

"Yes, Arturia?" asked Gimli.

"You dwarves are amazing," said Saber as they continued to walk through the great hall.

"Why thank you—" Gimli's eyes widened as he saw a battered doorway leading off from the main hall and surrounded by dwarf skeletons. All merriment from Arturia's compliment gone, Gimli ran toward it. Saber frowned, and ran after the dwarf.

"Gimli!" called out Gandalf, but to the wizard's consternation, the dwarf wouldn't listen, and he and Arturia ran through the door.

Saber cringed as Gimli slowly walked toward a simple marble tomb in the centre of a chamber filled with skeletons and old weapons, with a well off the side. Moonlight shone onto the slab, filling the room with some light. As if in a trance, Gimli staggered toward the slab and fell to his knees with a thud.

"No. No. No…" Sniffling, Gimli moaned. Saber didn't know why Gimli had been plunged into a state of such sorrow, but she touched the dwarf's shoulder to try to console him.

As Gimli continued to cry, softly hitting the crest of his helmet against the edge of the tomb, Gandalf read the inscription. "Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then. It's as I had feared."

Gritting her teeth Saber's grip on the dwarf's shoulder tightened. She knew Gimli had suspected his father's cousin had perished, but to have it confirmed in such a manner…

Taking one knee, Saber bowed to the tomb, clasping her right hand over her breast. "Rest in peace, Lord Balin, for we will carry on the tale of your passing."

Gimli raised his head to glance at Saber in surprise, only to see Aragorn, Boromir, Gandalf, the Hobbits, and… Gimli had to shake his head, his eyes must be deceiving him, the dratted elf, _Legolas_, kneeling at the feet of his cousin's tomb to pay their respects.

Touched beyond measure, tears sprang to Gimli's eyes. "Thank you… friends."

It was then Gandalf noticed the weighty journal gripped in the skeleton of the dwarf beside the tomb. Handing his hat and staff off to Pippin, the wizard gently pried the book from the dwarf's fingers and flipped through to find the more recent entries.

Saber, having risen to her feet, froze as Gandalf's chilling voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"They have taken the Bridge and the second hall: we have barred the gates...but cannot hold them for long...the ground shakes...drums in the deep...we cannot get out. They are coming."

There was a shout and a clatter. Saber turned, grasping her sword and cursed. It appeared Pippin had been exploring the room, when he had accidentally tripped on a chain near the well. He had gone head over heels and knocked over the dwarf skeleton perched precariously on the well's edge. Lunging forward, Saber managed to stop the heavy bucket from going over as well, but the armored dwarf's remains continued to bounce and create all manner of clangor as it clattered down the well's shaft.

Paralyzed with fear, The Fellowship waited for some kind of response… but nothing happened, and they all let out a sigh of relief.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your clumsiness!"

Saber frowned. "Gandalf that—"

_Boom._

_Boom_

_Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, thud, boom, boom, boom boom, screech._

Pale sounding whines filled the air as the drum that had started so quickly, changed to a slower beat.

"Frodo!" exclaimed Sam. Saber saw Frodo draw his short-sword, Sting, slightly and cursed when she saw the blade as glowing blue. Frodo had told her on the journey that whenever the blade glowed, that meant that—

Legolas finished Saber's thought with a grimace. "Orcs!" It prompted Boromir to rush toward the door, and Saber to follow closely after him.

As she and Boromir reached the doors, Saber's instincts kicked in as she heard a familiar whistling noise. Grabbing Boromir's shirt, she pulled him backwards and a second later, an arrow landed where his head was.

"Thanks, and oh dear," said Boromir his face paling. Saber couldn't see behind Boromir's taller back so she stepped beside him and stared. She could just see the head of a bald, hairless monster, taller than any man, with pale skin and beady eyes was being led toward them by a chain by a pack of distant, hunched over figures. It wielded a massive stone mace, easily as tall as Saber.

"What is that?" asked Saber, her voice level as she and Boromir shut the doors.

Boromir grabbed an axe and used it to secure the battered door, Aragorn joining their efforts. "A cave troll. They have a cave troll!"

"Weaknesses?" asked Saber, catching a spear Legolas threw to her and using it to secure the door.

"Sunlight turns them into stone, but we do not have access to it. Their hides are also thick and can only be pierced by elven blades, but even those have difficulty," shouted Gandalf as he ushered the Hobbits toward the rear of the chamber. Drawing his sword, Gandalf yelled, "Their greatest weakness is their limited intelligence."

"Alright then, Invisible Air should be able to compensate," said Saber, racing back to the tombstone of Balin, taking her place beside Aragorn who drew his bow. She followed suite, drawing Excalibur and holding it aloft with both hands.

Not a moment too soon, as whatever was on the other side began to smash the door again and again. It was holding, but it would not for much longer.

Grabbing a fallen axe and leaping onto his cousins tomb with a cry, Gimli drew his own axe. "Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

_Thump, thump. Crack, thump. _The door groaned once again.

"Everybody, leave the troll to me," ordered Saber.

Everybody stared. Boromir half-shouting in disbelief. "What? Arturia, are you mad?"

"I may be a female, but I can handle him myself!" snapped Saber, assuming that Boromir was worried about her because she was a woman, something that she hated.

Shaking his head, Boromir winced as the door shuddered again. "I'm worried for you because _that's a bloody troll_. Not because you are a girl!"

Blinking, Saber glanced at the Captain of Gondor and his worried expression. "Your concern is appreciated, but when I sparred with you, I used but a tiny _fraction_ of my true strength." Turning back to the door, she grimaced. "As long as you keep the other orcs off of me, I can fight without any concerns."

Not liking at all on what Arturia was proposing, Boromir nonetheless decided to trust her judgement. She _had_ defeated two Nazgul after all.

The orcs on the other side had begun to smash through the door with their axes, leaving gaps in the woodwork. It allowed Legolas and Aragorn to shoot their arrows through the gaps and into the enemies beyond. They only managed to get two arrows in though, before the door was completely smashed off its hinges.

Saber had never seen an "orc"up close, despite having the species described to her on numerous occasions by her more experienced companions. They did not disappoint the malicious and ugly image that she had been informed of. Dressed in black, twisted armor, with warped skin and warped sneers, Saber could practically see the evil off of them. And even if she hadn't, they were charging at her with swords and all manner of weaponry.

The orcs fell on them, screeching battle cries. Boromir stepped forward first to intercept them, using his shield's boss to smash in the face of the first orc, and promptly hacked his head off with his sword. Aragorn, abandoning his bow, unsheathed his sword in both hands, whirling it up and down, slashing into sneering orc faces and parrying hasty slashes. Legolas continued to fire his arrows at point-blank range, while Gimli used the height advantage offered by the tomb to wield his twin axes to deadly, armor-crushing, skull-splitting, effect.

In the face of such ferocious opposition, the orcs went after what appeared to be the easiest target. That was the short, fair-haired girl with green eyes, who seemed to hold no weapon at all, though she had taken the most curious stance. It was as if she did hold a weapon.

They were rudely surprised when the girl moved her hands and their stomachs open, spilling out their guts. Screaming in confusion, the orcs backed away, but the girl advanced, her hands continuing to swing, and they were all cut down like leaves in the face of a autumn wind.

Some orcs raised their shields, but the girl swung her hands downward and they were cut in two, along with the orc's shield arm. Struck with terror at the incomprehensible threat they faced, some orcs fled, right into the old wizard and his band of halflings wielding very sharp shortswords, while many simply ran away.

Saber smirked as the orcs ran from her and the Invisible Air coated Excalibur. Such poor fighters. They couldn't even understand the basic idea behind her sheath of wind. Maybe they had a chance of getting through this without—

A low, guttural roar shook the chamber, and Saber saw the cave troll advance into the chamber, led on a chain by a pair of orcs, who quickly let go to join the fight. Taking a deep breath, Saber levelled her blade and narrowed her eyes as she summoned prana from her reserves, and focused much of it at her feet.

The troll fixated itself on the nearest opponent, her, which was good. Better her than someone like Sam, who was actually dealing out some good hits with his frying pan and sword combination. Giving a roar, the troll charged toward her, raising it's mace high into the air, and sending it crashing down toward her.

That was when she made her move. She leapt forward, her prana boosted muscles slamming her feet into the ground, leaving small cracks on the stone floor. With her speed, Saber dodged under the troll's strike, and swung Excalibur into the troll's left leg.

For a moment, the hide resisted, but the cutting winds of Invisible Air were too sharp, even for troll hide. It gave way, and Excalibur bit deeply into the troll's leg, slicing muscle and bouncing off bone.

The troll howled in pain wobbling as he tried to turn toward Saber, who skidded to a halt past the troll, her blade at the ready. Enraged, the beast grabbed his long chain at Saber with his left hand and swung it at Saber, who jumped over the scything chain and landed on two feet. Gripping Excalibur, she then lunged forward to bring her sword down on the troll's hand, severing a finger at the mid-joint.

The behemoth let go of his chain roaring again as pain blinded his senses. Even with its limited intelligence, it could sense that the girl was too dangerous of an opponent. It needed a weaker target.

Limping away, the troll spotted a man wielding a shield, engaged with two orcs. It swung its mace down on him, but another man with a longer sword and darker hair tackled the man with the shield out of the way and the mace smashed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Boromir! Aragorn!" screamed Saber her eyes wide with horror.

"We're alright!" yelled Aragorn, helping Boromir up.

That was when The Fellowship heard a cry that chilled them to the bone, none of them knew that _Pippin_, always cheerful and silly, could make a sound like that.

"FRODO!"

They froze, as they saw the Ringbearer, an orc's sword stabbing his left breast, where his heart was. Frodo had a confused expression on his features, like he had just eaten a bad piece of candy. Swaying like a tree, he fell forward and hit the ground, hard. Pippin, whom Frodo had saved by throwing himself in between his friend and the orc, was already sobbing, while the orc that had stabbed Frodo was gleefully smirking at the cry of despair.

That was the last expression he ever made as his head was severed from his neck by Sam's furious slash. Galvanized by their friend's action, the Hobbits threw themselves at the orcs like mad animals, their short blades flashing and stabbing. Gandalf followed in, charging into four orcs, his staff laying low two of them before Glamdring, his sword, caved the skull of the other two in. Boromir and Aragorn intended to charge another group of orcs, Legolas and Gimli close behind them, knives and axes in hand.

They were not able to get their vengeance though, because Saber went temporarily berserk..

The only warning the rest of The Fellowship had that their only female member had snapped, was the blast of wind that blasted all the orcs entering through the door out of the chamber, leaving them sprawled out on the ground, at best, stunned, at worse, with broken bones.

Saber herself, tears at the edge of her eyes, was holding a magnificent sword in her grasp where there had been only an invisible one. None of them had seen anything like it. It's pure white blade shone like the sun at full noon, filling the chamber with golden light, causing the orcs to wail as if being assaulted by the sun. Holding it in one hand, she strode forward.

"You are lucky that I can't use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm here. I'd kill myself and my friends," snarled Saber. The troll must have sensed its doom because it swung its mace at her again. The rest of the Fellowship shouted out warnings, but with only a single arm, Saber raised her sword and blocked the blow, her sword cracking the head of the stone mace.

"But this will be enough!" Saber's left hand seized Excalibur. With a cry, she threw the troll's weapon off her sword and then jumped into the air, swinging both arms back. The troll raised its arm, but Saber, channeling her prana through her divine weapon, cut through the arm, and continued forward until her blade sunk into the troll's skull. Shining even brighter, the golden sword was lit with golden flames as it continued to slice through the monster, like a knife through butter, until the troll was completely bisected. It stood still for a moment until it fell backward, separating into two halves, Saber standing at the feet of the corpse.

The craven hearts of the orcs, seeing their trump card defeated in such a manner, were filled with fear. They fled in a mad scramble to get away from that dreaded girl and her blade that shine like the sun.

But none of The Fellowship noticed as they clustered around the limp form of ther friend.

Merry piped up, "Arturia, will Avalon..."

"It's worth a try," said Saber sadly as she unbuckled her sheath and turned Frodo over.

To the amazement of all, Frodo immediately opened his eyes, coughing slightly, but otherwise fine. As the hobbits cried out in joy, Saber noticed there was a rather strange lack of blood on Frodo's shirt.

"I'm alright, I'm not hurt," gasped Frodo, hand over his chest.

"You should have been skewered by that orc," said Aragorn.

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," said Gandalf as Gimli saw the silver glint under Frodo's shirt and lifted it up to reveal-

"Mithril," whispered Saber, remembering that Frodo's uncle had had a shirt of mithril. Her heart filling with relief, she ruffled Frodo's hair.

"Don't ever do something like that ever again," said Saber, Frodo nodding promptly.

It was at this moment that Saber's stomach chose itself to make its presence known. Like a lion, it roared and Saber felt the blood rushing to her face as her companions burst into full-blown nervous laughter.

"You already had seconds only a few hours ago!" moaned Boromir. It was he who had done the cooking this morning.

"I already took down the cave troll for you! What more can you ask for!" demanded Saber, a smile making itself onto her face in spite of the dire situation. She couldn't help it, she was so relieved Frodo was alive.

"Only one thing… where do you put it all away?" asked Gandalf wryly.

_BOOM. BOOM. BOOM_

Gandalf turned to the Fellowship, the mirth banished from his face. "To the bridge of Khazad-dum!"

* * *

In spite of tired limbs and their heavy weapons, the Fellowship ran like never before, Gandalf leading the way, Arturia bringing up the rear, as orcs and goblins swarmed through the caverns, crawling like an army of ants after a dying caterpillar. Yet, although they made good speed, the small group found themselves surrounded by a ring of leering faces.

Saber gritted her teeth. This looks like it was the time to use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm. They were in enough danger and she had lots of space to use her weapon. Raising her sword, Saber was about to shout a warning, when a great guttural bellow echoed through the cavern. It sent the orcs and goblins screeching and scurrying up the pillars and into their holes.

Gimli laughed, but Saber continued to look for the source of the sound. This was too convenient… if so many orcs and goblins would run away just from a noise, it had to be…

Saber stopped, and stared at what seemed like a brightly lit furnace that had appeared out of nowhere in the distance. She could feel the warm air on her nose and smell the scent of burnt stone.

"What is this new devilry?" whispered Boromir.

Gandalf closed his eyes, as if recalling an old memory. Slowly he looked up, his eyes grim. "A Balrog..a demon of the ancient world This foe is beyond any of you!" He glanced at Saber. "Even you, Arturia. Run!"

And the Fellowship rang, pursued by the roars of the Balrog of Moria. Gandalf hurried them across the hall and through a door leading to a set of stone stairs that spanned a gigantic abyss. Saber would have liked to admire it, but there was no time.

"Boromir watch your step!" yelled Saber as the man nearly went over a stair that simply… ended. Forewarned, Boromir managed to stop, and Legolas quickly yanked him back for added safety.

Down the Fellowship went, their foots pitter-pattering over the steps, until they were confronted by a gap in the stairs. Without too much difficulty, Legolas leaped over. Gandalf hesitated for a moment as the ground shook, but followed suit.

Arrows from goblin archers began to fly. Aragorn and Legolas returned fire with their bows, while Saber grabbed Frodo and Sam.

"Gandalf, catch!" Yelled Saber as she tossed the pair.

The wizard, his arms opened, caught the two hobbits and set them down. Boromir, following Saber's example, seized Merry and Pippin and made a running jump, managing to cross the chasm before a section of the stairs crumbled away. Time had taken its toll on the structure.

"Gimli, take my hand," said Saber holding her guantlet out to the dwarf.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" Gimli prepared to jump, but Saber grabbed him by the scruff of his neck anyway.

"I'm tossing the only dwarf who has learned of Lord Balin's demise!" said Saber in a stern tone. With that, she hurled a chastened Gimli across the divide, and was promptly yanked back by Aragorn as the stone under her fell away into the oblivion.

"Aragorn, grab hold!" commanded Saber as she sheathed Excalibur.

"Is it the thing you did at the gate?" asked Aragorn as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around the shorter woman's waist.

"No need for it! Hold on!" Saber. Prana coursing through her legs, she braced herself and jumped—

Right when the whole stairway itself gave way, throwing her jump off.

"No," gasped Saber as they began to fall down, too soon, too fast. The Fellowship were staring at her and Aragorn in horror as they dropped. Stretching her arms forward, Saber reached for the edge, but it was just a bit too far.

Which was when Boromir and Gimli managed to seize one of Saber's arms each and stop her and Aragorn from plunging to their deaths. Their teeth clenched, their heels digging into the rock, precariously close to the ledge, the man and dwarf were soon joined by the wizard, elf and hobbits, who pulled their companions up.

They stood there, panting for a moment, until Gandalf got them moving again. On and on the little band ran, urged on by the shuddering ground and furious roars.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" yelled Gandalf, stopping as they passed a fiery pit. The rest of The Fellowship ran on, the bridge just a ways ahead of them, while Saber halted beside Gandalf.

A roar, closer than any of the other ones, spun the wizard and the knight around, and from the flames, rose the Balrog of Moria, known to Gandalf as Durin's Bane.

Saber had faced all manner of monster or beast. She had suffered and prevailed against all manner of machinations and manipulations. But this… was the first time in a long time that fear struck her to the core. For the Balrog was simply beyond her.

In sheer size, the horned beast towered over any cave troll, it's smoky wings only adding to its gargantuan size. From every pore, eye-hole and its mouth, it exuded red-hot flames. The amount of prana she felt from the Balrog… it was as if the strength of five hundred dragons had been imbued into its frame.

But what really scared Saber was that her mind had chosen this moment to remember one rather crucial fact about her state of being.

She was alive.

This is normally a comforting fact, but to a person used to being an immortal, albeit dispellable and defeatable servant, this was a terrifying fact.

Still, Saber drew her sword and raised it with both hands.

"No Gandalf, I will stay. I might have one attack that can wound him." Saber didn't have to even check if the restrictions applied, Excalibur was glowing so brightly, it was as if it was calling her to attack. Shutting her eyes Saber concentrated her prana into her sword. She had no idea whether Excalibur's Noble Phantasm would bring down an enemy of that size, of that power, and with her current reserves of prana… But she had to try

Except Gandalf pushed her aside and seized her shoulder, his grey eyes blazing fiercely. "Do not be so eager to give up your life, Arturia Pendragon, for you were brought here to live, not to die!"

Saber's eyes widened as she stared at the wizard, stunned. Gandalf glanced backwards before turning back to her. "How do you—"

"Remember, true glory is gained by dying at the right time, for the right people, not by recklessly throwing your life away!" Gandalf shoved Saber toward the bridge. "Go! The Fellowship will need you, and you will need them in times to come."

Dazed, Saber followed Gandalf's instruction and joined Aragorn on the other side of the chasm, but he was staring at the other side. Turning around, Saber's heart plummeted as she saw the old wizard standing at the narrowest part of the bridge. Confronting the Balrog.

"You cannot pass!"

"Gandalf!" That was Frodo. Or was it her own scream? Saber wasn't sure, but Aragorn had grabbed her shoulder and was holding her back.

Undaunted, the old wizard raised his staff and sword, a brilliant sphere of white light surrounding him, even as the Balrog burned even brighter and summoned a flaming sword.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun."

The Balrog's sword smashed against Gandalf's shield, dispelling both. Grimacing as the Balrog roared into his face, Gandalf shouted. "Go back to the shadow!"

A whip of fire burning in his twisted hands, the Balrog strode forward.

Gandalf responded by raising his sword and staff. Saber blinked as she felt Gandalf focus his prana into the two weapons. Taking a deep breath, the wizard loudly declared.

"You… shall not… pass!"

Before he brought his staff smashing into the stone bridge. It appeared to do nothing, but Saber quickly realized what the wizard's plan was as the Balrog snorted and finally stepped onto the stone bridge, which instantly collapsed under his feet.

Roaring with anger, the Balrog disappeared into the darkness, and Saber released the breath she didn't know she had been holding as Aragorn let go of her shoulder.

But the Balrog was not done yet. His whip curled upwards, lashing around Gandalf's ankle and pulling him almost completely over the bridge. Scrabbling at the edge, the wizard managed to hang on, barely.

"Gandalf!" screamed Frodo, running forward, but Boromir, seeing the approaching goblin archers, held him back.

Seeing that Boromir had stopped Frodo from doing anything that would endanger him, Saber charged. Her armored feet hitting the ground, Saber raced down the stairs, not caring as goblin arrows bounced off her armor and cut her cheeks.

But Gandalf shook his head, and Saber's charge screeched to a stop as she heard his voice in her mind.

_Arturia, the Balrog _can fly_. I thought earlier that perhaps he was weak enough for us to escape from, but I have just felt the heat of his flaming whip on my skin. I know now that he will not stop until all of you are dead, and not even the dragon blood that Merlin gifted you will be enough to stop him._

Saber's heart stopped. _No. There has to be another way…_

"This is the only way!" Gandalf groaned as his fingers began to slip. Saber continued to run, but it was as if she was moving in slow motion.

"Fly, you fools," gasped Gandalf, and he let go.

"**No!"** Frodo's cry was all Saber could hear as she stopped and stared, motionless, at the spot where the leader of the Fellowship, the wisest of their group, had fallen. She didn't care that arrows were raining down around her, or that one had slammed into her shoulder, knocking her back a step. She couldn't hear anything else.

"Aragorn! Arturia!" Somehow, Saber heard Boromir's cry through the trance that had momentarily taken over her and she returned to reality. Momentarily glaring at the goblins across the chasm, she turned around and ran back to rejoin the Fellowship, ignoring Aragorn's concerned look.

* * *

As soon as the exhausted Fellowship finally exited the mine and into the midday sun, they fell apart. Legolas showed the least sorrow, but his elven features had been slammed with shock and he looked as if the world had suddenly ended. Gimli was trying to race back to the exit, but Boromir was holding him back. Merry was holding a crying Pippin, while Sam was trying to wipe the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Frodo… he had walked farther down the plateau and was staring at the sky. Aragorn wasn't too far behind him and had taken out a cloth and was wiping his sword, really hard, a clear attempt to find comfort in a familiar action.

As for Saber, she was staring at the exit, sword clenched so tightly in her gauntlet it was shaking. Sighing, she took a moment to reform Invisible Air and sheath Excalibur, then turned to the rest of her companions.

"We must move on," said Saber, in a hoarse, but stern voice infused with authority.

"Give them a moment...for —" Boromir stared. "Arturia... your shoulder."

Saber blinked and looked at herself to see the arrow still sticking out from her left shoulder. Grimacing, she grabbed it with her right hand and wrenched it out, barbed head and all. All the while, her features remained a stony mask. Pain coursed through her shoulder, but it was a welcome distraction from her grief.

"Avalon will take care of it. We have to move." She paused, biting her lip and closing her eyes to stop herself from giving into the desire to cry. "Gandalf would not want us to stop for anything."

Boromir continued to stare at the girl in front of him until Aragorn spoke up. "She's right, Boromir. By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up. On your feet, Sam. Frodo? Frodo!"

Frodo turned to stare at the Fellowship, his eyes covered with a sort of glazed expression, but he rejoined their group and they continued to shamble onward.

* * *

Saber was only half listening as Gimli rambled on about the wood they were in. She didn't care about the trees, beautiful as they were, or about her blood-soaked and dirty clothing and armor. She just wanted to meet whoever Aragorn said they were going to meet and sit down.

Gimli had recovered some of his bravado, but Saber could tell by the sad light in his eyes that he was still mourning Gandalf's death. His bravado was just a front in order to hide it. "Stay close, young hobbits..they say a Sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell...And are never seen again! Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Out of nowhere, elves with drawn bows appeared, surrounding the Fellowship, their arrows points aimed at their necks.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him—" The elf froze as he felt a cold wind against his neck, an armored girl with what appeared to be an invisible sword. She had drawn it so quickly, none of the elves had managed to get an arrow off.

"And I would have slit your throat before you could even released an arrow off of your bow, elf," said the girl in a low voice, making it very clear that to question her was to die.

Luckily, Aragorn managed to push Arturia's sword hand down before any blood could be spilt. In hushed tones, he explained to Haldir, the Captain of Lothlorien, their situation. Raising an eyebrow, the elf gestured his arches to lower their bows.

Gimli was not so easily appeased. "Aragorn! These woods are perilous. We should go back."

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back," stated Haldir. He was about to glance at Frodo, but a dark glare from Saber warned him away.

"Come, she is waiting."

**Author's note: Moria is completed and I have a final rough plan for how the entire story is going to work out. Stay tuned. **

**Also, regarding how Excalibur bisected the troll when Invisible Air couldn't cut bone. Basically according to my interpretation of what's stated in the wiki, Invisible Air is like a knife's edge, it's sharp as hell and sharper than Excalibur, but when you put Prana directly into Excalibur, it's attack power is exponentially increased, therefore Saber can use Excalibur to bisect the troll.**

**Omake: **

**Saber Lion: ***crying. GAAAAAOOOOO!

**Author: **there there.

**Saber Lion: ***Shakes her head. Gao! *sniff

**Author: **Oh. OHHhhhh yeah that upcoming scene will be sad to a degree… their whole relationship is pretty screwed up. Anyhow, stay tuned to the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7:The Gifts of Lothlorien

**Pre-Chapter Author's Note:**

**Okay reviewers, if you really want me to reply to you and answer your questions. Don't post a GUEST REVIEW! I can't actually PM you and I really don't want to actually post my response in story for posterity XD. **

**In response to one review regarding how Saber recognized how Frodo in Chapter 1 had a ring of invisibility… well one, the Naz'gul was stabbing thin air. Two, Saber's got an invisible sword, she has experience with invisible items. Three, if she has the above and if she noticed Frodo popping into existence somehow, the only difference being in that his ring isn't on, then she can conclude quickly that the ring makes one invisible.**

**And on that bombshell, we shall proceed onwards.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Gifts of Lothlorien**

Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Saber had never seen two fairer people in her life. Neither had she met two more cryptic.

The Fellowship had been greeted by the two upon entering Lothlorien proper, a beautiful combination of architecture interwoven with ancient trees. All of which was lit by white fairy-lights. While Legolas told the tale of Gandalf's fall, Galadriel's eyes seemed to examine Saber from head to toe. For some reason, Galadriel did not comment on Saber's invisible sword, or the dress she wore. Instead, she only continued to smile, and after her husband finished, she spoke.

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all...Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." Opening her arms in a welcoming gesture, Galadriel declared "Tonight you will sleep in peace."

However, while everybody heard Galadriel's welcome, Saber heard something different in her mind. Something that nearly shocked her to drawing her sword.

"_And if you wish to seek my counsel, Your Majesty, do not hesitate to visit me in my glade," _said Galadriel's voice in Saber's head.

* * *

Saber rose from her bedroll unable to sleep. She was too sad. Gandalf's death weighed on her heavier than her armor and yet, it kept her up all night. So she walked, through the peaceful, moonlit trees. She knew where she had to go.

On her way to her destination, she passed Aragorn as she walked. He nodded to her briefly.

"Arturia, you should get some rest,"

"I must speak to someone first. Besides, it is difficult to go to sleep," said Saber.

"I know." Aragorn paused, his gaze averted. "I have been considering your arguments. And you are right. I have neglected my duties as heir to the throne, and I must confess something to you."

Saber nodded, wondering what Aragorn wanted to tell her.

"You have heard of how Isildur fell prey to the One Ring?"

"Yes? What of it?"

"I am afraid his greed will become my own." Saber's eyes widened as Aragorn met her gaze. "That is why I do not wish to return to Gondor and become king. It would only bring ruin."

Saber considered this silently. The curse of one's lineage, the mistake of the ancestor, which was now bringing ruin onto the rest of the free lands... Aragorn's fear was not something to be trifled with. She had thought the ranger cowardly for not taking on his duties, but how could one blame him for being afraid because of his predecessor's mistakes?

She sighed. "It is a valid fear, and I am sorry for my words then. I spoke in anger." Saber scuffed a tree root with her boot, debating whether she should share more with Aragorn. But then again, he needed to know this.

Making her decision Saber spoke as if reciting an old poem. "The late king of my realm had a choice once upon a time. For, as last heir of the previous king, he had to make a choice. A sword had been placed in a stone, and if he had drawn it, and he knew he could, he would become king. But the wizard who placed the stone warned him that if he pulled the sword from the stone, he would no longer be human. The child knew that, for he knew that if he became king he would have to kill everyone to save everyone." Aragorn blinked as Saber continued. "But on that day he resolved himself not to fear anymore, and pulled the sword." Saber smiled, remembering the cheers of her people. "And doing so, he saved his land."

"So a true king must be brave, and make the necessary choices to save his land?" asked Aragorn.

Saber nodded. "Correct, but a king must also sacrifice everything he is in order to protect his land. Those choices will not be easy, and cannot be made lightly." Saber took a deep breath. "Think carefully about whether you wish to be a king, and what kind of king you wish to be, Aragorn son of Arathorn." Her fist clenching tightly she couldn't help but avert her eyes. "For depending on your choice, you may live to grieve and regret your rule."

Aragorn's expression was contemplative as he nodded in affirmation. "Thank you, Arturia, I will consider my choices carefully." The ranger turned to go, but before he left he glanced back at Saber. "I must disagree on one thing though Arturia. I do think a king must be willing to sacrifice everything, but he would not need to."

Saber frowned. "Why not?"

"Because if the king tries to do that, his people will also be willing to shoulder that sacrifice for him,"said Aragorn.

Saber frowned, and opened her mouth to retort, but the ranger had already wandered off.

* * *

"King Arturia Pendragon, daughter of Uther Pendragon, The Once and Forever King of Camelot and Britain," said Galadriel, as Saber walked into a clearing, a steaming pool of water on a pedestal in the centre.

Saber was not surprised. It seemed the most powerful people in this world all knew whom she was. "I have come to seek your counsel, Lady Galadriel, for I have felt you probe my mind and know you wish to speak to me."

"Then by all means, state your question," said Galadriel, approaching Saber, her graceful figure shining in the moonlight.

Saber glared at Galadriel. "For what purpose was I brought to this land? I do not think it was an accident that I arrived here," said Saber, an accusing tone in her voice.

"I agree with your conclusion, but I do not know how and why you arrived. The mind of Eru Iluvutar, God of all Creation cannot be understood by everyone, but I have no doubt that your presence is a result of his intervention. Not after all the good you have wrought with your actions." Saber's brow furrowed, though Galadriel appeared to smile brighter. "You doubt what I say?"

"I question whether I could have done any better," said Saber, but her tongue tripped over her hasty words.

The elf shook her fair head, a somewhat disapproving look in her eyes. "Indeed you do, Arturia, but you also regret your own actions, like you regret your kingship." Saber flinched. "Yet you now question your own guilt."

Saber shook her head looking defiantly up at Galadriel. "I question nothing and I regret everything! If I did I would have betrayed my knights, my people, my kingdom! They did not deserve my kingship, especially not its end." Saber's gauntlet formed a fist. "And what has my presence done for my companions? I allowed them to enter Moria, and I left Gandalf to face the Balrog. I did save the others on several occasions, but others could have easily taken my place."

"Perhaps, but it was not they who saved your companions, it was you. Besides Arturia… Did you not save Frodo from the Naz'gul and make sure he did not suffer more from the Morgul Blade? Did you not console Gimli with your actions while in the Mines of Moria? Even now, do you not advise Aragorn of the duties of a king? And as for Boromir, you give him courage, courage that deflects him from his want of the One Ring."

Somehow, the last point made Saber feel… slightly fuzzy inside, but also worry her. "So he still desires it?"

"As does Aragorn and all who travel with you, albeit in very different ways. The One Ring is a treacherous tempter." Galadriel walked over slowly to the pool of water and dipped her hand in it to stir the contents.

"While I cannot offer you answers to your questions, Arturia, I can convey you a warning, a prophecy…" Saber looked into the mirror-like surface and watched the ripples spread, especially the silvery words that formed within.

_As the One Ring calls for its master, the children of Iluvatar call for aid._

_The Father hears his peoples cry, and so the King of Knights is sent forth,_

_But balance must be maintained, for as Two Nazgul have fallen, more must rise,_

_The White Hand will chain a Berserker, and his master will summon three servants,_

_Yet even as the Dark One's ranks fill with powers not of this world, others will rise to face them._

_The Fallen Knight serves the Horse, and in the White Hand's Servant therein lies a chance,_

_For Rage and Hatred to be reconciled, and Love to reign over the sword._

Prophecies. Saber really hated them. They only made sense at the time of the event, but thankfully, this prophecy had several rather useful parts that were quite specific.

What she did understand though, was of great concern to Saber. Servants, of the Holy Grail, were being summoned to Middle Earth. In what form she had no idea, but they were coming. It also appeared she had an ally as well, but Saber didn't know what to make out of the lines referring to "the Berserker," especially the last line.

_For Rage and Hatred to be reconciled, and Love to reign over the sword_… What does that line possibly mean? It spoke of the White Hand's servant, a reference to Saruman, but how would she be able to reconcile a Berserker's rage and hatred?

Deciding not to lose any more sleep over it, Saber bowed. "Thank you, Lady Galadriel." She paused and then added, "I am sorry for my earlier rudeness."

"Not at all, Arturia. Now go, get some rest." As Saber bowed again and left the glade, Galadriel seemed to suddenly look into the distance. "For I am about to undergo a test."

* * *

As she walked toward her sleeping roll, pondering Galadriel's words, Saber noticed Boromir lying against a tree his eyes wide open.

"Boromir. You cannot sleep too?" asked Saber.

Boromir coughed, as he shifted in his seat against the tree. "I will. I'm just… thinking."

"About what?" asked Saber, deciding she might as well ask her friend about what was bothering him. She took a seat next to Boromir and leaned against the tree as well, not noticing that he smiled as she did so.

"Gondor and Minas Tirith, the great white city. My home," said Boromir. He gulped as he noticed Saber's downcast eyes. "I'm sorry for being insensitive, I forgot your kingdom fell."

"Don't worry, it is natural to miss your home," said Saber.

"You can share if you want." Saber frowned as Boromir spluttered. "Share your memories about Camelot, and Britain. If it helps."

"Camelot… was a grand place. Not as beautiful as Rivendell are awe-inspiring as Moria, but it was magnificent in its own right. Perched on a hill by a flowing river, its towers always flew pennants of many colors. I would never get tired of watching them flap in the breeze." Saber smiled as she remembered the best days of her reign. "A magnificent cathedral stood in the city, and beside it, m—" Saber coughed, catching herself. "The castle of the king. It was whitewashed with red clay roofs and high walls."

Boromir was beginning to imagine it in his mind and he nodded. Seeing it, Saber allowed herself to grin back. "But what was most special about Camelot was it's Great Hall, which held a table." Saber's eyes glistened. "A round table. Where the king and his loyal knights would sit together, side by side, equals. The table was enchanted, so that each knight had his own place, and the table would always make new places for new knights. There… the knights made merry, and courted their ladies."

"What about you?" Boromir asked. Arturia had an oddly wistful look on her face. It wasn't one simply remembering a nostalgic event, but one who was also wishing she had done something different.

"I joined them of course. Not the courting, but the feasting and the dancing," lied Saber. In truth, she, the king, had watched over her knights. Admiring their bonds, but never really joining them, acting like a king would do

"Oh… it's just, you spoke of yourself as if you were observing your comrades, not actually participating with them," said Boromir a note of concern in his voice.

"I was not the most sociable of the knights," admitted Saber. That was a bit of an understatement, but Boromir seemed to accept her explanation.

For a long time, the pair simply leaned back against the tree, watching the stars.

"Arturia," whispered Boromir, not sure if the lady knight was awake.

"Yes?" asked Saber.

Boromir hesitated. "You would have done anything to save your kingdom, right?"

Saber nodded remembering the wish she had wanted the Grail to grant her. "Yes, short of giving up my own honour, but yes."

"But should the kingdom's safety be placed over one's honour?" asked Boromir in a quiet, hesitant voice.

Saber turned to Boromir a stern expression on her features. "If you are speaking of taking the Ring to Gondor, Boromir, then you know my answer."

Boromir gritted his teeth. "I know. I know… but I am afraid that Gondor will fall. I want to use the Ring against its master, though I know it is not possible. I am afraid that we will fail, afraid for Frodo's health." Boromir clasped his fingers tightly. "He suffers greatly, you know?"

"I know, but he seems to be holding on surprisingly well," remarked Saber. She had noticed Frodo's face paling as of late and that he ate less than usual, but he would still chat with Sam and the other Hobbits.

"Well he is young and healthy. Think of what would have happened if that Morgul blade he was stabbed with weeks ago did lasting damage," said Boromir.

Saber blinked. According to what Aragorn had told her, a Morgul blade damages the soul of a person, which the Ring constantly tries to tempt and draws upon. Had the Morgul blade left a lasting mark on Frodo…

"He maybe would have died on the way to Mordor. If not, the damage on his soul from the Ring he is carrying..." rasped Saber, as Galadriel's words echoed through her mind.

Boromir nodded. "You've probably saved his life for the future, Arturia. If this quest succeeds, he will have a shorter, but worthwhile life nonetheless." Boromir turned to Arturia. "So don't punish yourself for what you were not able to do, I… I think you've done plenty, Arturia."

Saber turned to meet Boromir's bright blue eyes, and found herself smiling. "Thank you, Boromir. I will keep that in mind." Turning back to gaze on the stars, Saber let herself fall asleep in the roots of the tree. Boromir watched over her, until she was in the land of dreams, and then got up. He tip-toed to Arturia's bedroll, brought the blanket over and covered her with it.

"Sleep well… my—" Boromir paused to gently brush a lock of Arturia's blond hair out of her face, his eyes widening as he appeared to realize something.

"My Love."

* * *

The River Anduin, long and flowing quickly, it carried the four boats The Fellowship were in down at a steady pace. Saber was seated with Pippin, and as she rowed down the river, she could not help but recall the gifts they were given.

First of all, Lembas bread. They were not as great tasting as Rivendell's food. However, Saber had never had something where a single piece was able to fill her stomach. She did find Legolas staring at her weirdly after she scarfed an entire down and was soon embarrassed to find out that one nibble was supposed to be enough to fill a grown man's stomach. She was also stunned to overhear Pippen tell Merry he had eaten _four_.

Each of the Fellowship were also given Elven cloaks and leaf-shaped brooches to attach them, along with individual gifts. Legolas, a wonderfully crafted bow. Merry and Pippin, sharp elven daggers. Gimli, three hairs from her head, which touched the dwarf greatly. Aragorn, nothing but what seemed like a prophecy.

To Boromir, she whispered something into his ear and passed him something small and shiny. Saber thought she saw Boromir blush, but she had thought nothing of it.

Saber's cloak though was slightly different. For one, it was blue, and second of all, it was trimmed with ermine fur. It was a cloak befitting of a king, and Galadriel had been quick to explain.

"Your cloak, Arturia, is the Kings Shroud. It is a cloak with an incredibly tough weave and is enchanted to never burn. It will also mend itself if it is ripped, for you are not destined to hide, but to stand in the face of darkness. No one can remove this cloak from your person, unless you will it to, and hence it will be your shroud, should you fall." Galadriel's solemn features gave way to a small smile. "But I doubt it will come to that, Arturia."

"I hope you are right, Lady Galadriel," whispered Saber to the midday sun.

* * *

_Isengard…_

"Mordred."

"What do you want this time, wizard?" spat Mordred, her fists clenching as she braced herself for the coming punishment. The Knight of Treachery was dressed in silver armor that Saruman had ordered forged according to Mordred's instructions. Saruman though, had other ways to punish his resistant servant.

He did not disappoint and Mordred reeled as the wizard flicked his hand, and the Uruk'Hai, the result of an orc bred with a goblin, stepped up and struck her across the face. Mordred managed to stay upright, though she snarled at the orc. Called Lurtz, he and his brethren were stronger than any ordinary orc and unlike ordinary orcs who were weakened by the sun, Uruk'hai could travel in the day and suffer no reduction in strength, or brutality.

"I was actually going to grant you want you want, Mordred. A chance to kill your father."

Her green eyes widening, Mordred listened carefully as Saruman issued his orders. "You are to lead a band of Uruk'hai to intercept your father and her compatriots along the Anduin River. You are then to take the halflings with them and bring them to me, alive, and unspoiled." He directed his final comment to the Uruk'Hai, who nodded, reluctantly.

"While you retrieve the halflings, you can try to kill your father. I suggest taking advantage of her companions. She has grown to care for them…"

Snarling, Mordred nodded grudgingly, but her lips were grinning in anticipation. "She will die, Saruman."

**Author's Note:** MUAHAHAHAHA PROPHECY AND SARUMAN! MORDRED IS ALSO COMING FOR YOU SABER OR ARTURIA IDK! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Gonna guess what I'm going to do next? Nooope I'm not saying anything.

**Saber Lion**: Gao Gao Gao?

**Author**: Ship Boromir and Saber? Well of course. Saber is also going to… Oh I know what your plan is Lion, you want me to translate an answer. Sorry, but no spoilers Lion.

**Saber Lion: ***grumpily Gao.

* * *

**Omake: Carnival Phantasm LoTR Edition Opening Performance: Act I "Casting Part 1"**

**Aragorn**: Given Gandalf's absence, I'll be taking charge of the Author's plan to have the entire Arturia and the Lord of the Rings cast in performing Suupaa (star) Afekushon also known as Super (star) Affection, which is the opening to Typemoon's _Carnival Phantasm_ anime shorts series. Watch it, it's hilarious.

**Boromir: **You say that so casually, Aragorn. And where did the star come from. Nevermind, how did you pronounce the (star) wait, how am I pronouncing the (star)?

**Aragorn: **It's not like I wanted Gandalf to go! As I've told everybody, I don't really want to be king!

**Legolas:** But you've always harbored a desire to direct and control freak a performance, Aragorn. That gives you motive.

**Gimli**: I've never picked you for a conspiracy theorist, elf.

**Legolas: **It's not like I've had anything to do over the past age! We elves need something to occupy our time.

**Aragorn:** Enough! Anyhow, the script supposed to go like this. The lead female for the first crossover group appears doing the flicking of the finger followed by tap to the shoulder and… you've got the script, you know the dance moves. So for the LoTR cast, the female would be…

**Aragorn's voice trails off. Everybody sits in silence...**

**Legolas:** Aragorn, we've got no females from Middle Earth! In fact our universe has got so little female screen time, it makes Saber look smoking hot.

**Saber + Boromir: **What are you insinuating elf? I/Arturia am/is in possession of a smoking"hot" body. **They glance at each other and turn away, slightly red in the face.**

**Aragorn snorts: **Puhleeze. We got hot females and they got screentime.

**Pippin and Merry twinspeaking: **You and which model?

**Arwen, in a very right elven robe, rides onto stage on a white horse, Legolas and Gimli nosebleeds. Merry and Pippin hold up 9/10 cards.**

**Arwen: **Am I late oh snootums.

**Aragorn: **No you aren't hot pointy ears. **the two rub noses and come in way too close. **

**Frodo: **MY EYES MY EYES!

**Sam: **Well… that's an eye opener, but that's only one female. The script says that we have to have a second female dancing next to the first…

**Galadriel: **I believe I can help you with that

**Everybody: **GALADRIEL?

**Aragorn glances up and down Galadriel, frowning disapprovingly:** I'm sorry Galadriel, but the script says "love interests" and while there's no way we can duplicate that point, we at least have to choose unmarried, virgin, more or less innocent and pure females for that role.

**The entire rehearsal space plunges into darkness. Galadriel holds up the Phial of Earendil, her visage turning dark green, robes tattering and turning dark, while bright light explodes from behind her.**

**Frodo:** MY EYES MY EYES!

**Galadriel**: You have no power here, servant of the Author's Whims! You are nameless! Faceless! Formless! Go and let me perform for the role I was meant to have!

**Saber screams: **We were deceived we were deceived!

**Aragorn nodding fervently:** Yes milady! We'll cast you as the second female of the LoTR universe!


	8. Chapter 8: Breaking of the Fellowship

**Chapter 8: The Breaking of the Fellowship**

The Argonath, the massive statues of Isildur and his younger brother Anarion on opposing sides of the river Anduin. The statues once marked the border of Northern Gondor, but while the kingdom had diminished in size, they still stood defiant with their left hands raised.

To Boromir, they reminded him of an example he had to live up to, of past glories achieved by his kingdom. However, no matter how awe-inspiring the statues were, his eyes had continued to wander to the only female member of The Fellowship and her wide-eyed stare at the fabled landmark.

Many a woman had crossed Boromir's eyes and as the charismatic, adventurous and inspiring Captain of Gondor, who had retaken the river city of Osgiliath for the kingdom, many a woman had crossed Boromir's eyes and been in his arms. He was thus, certainly not inexperienced with the fairer sex and had his fair share of courtships. Some ended badly, some ended amicably. All of which had been with the most beautiful women of Gondor, tall, pale, doe-eyed and dark haired, with large bosoms or shapely hips. None of these women were slouches in the intelligence department either as they were all well-spoken, adept at making their own decisions, and knew how to care for their families.

Arturia. Knight of Camelot and Britain… was nothing like the women Boromir had courted. She was short for one, and didn't even quite reach his shoulder. Her short fair hair that was braided into a bun, was pretty, but apart from the complicated way it had been done up, it was not very well cared for. She had very small breasts, impossible to discern underneath her chestplate, and only barely discernable when she took her armor off. Her features weren't particularly gorgeous either as they were of a young girl, not of a more mature woman.

However, Boromir hadn't fallen in love with Arturia just for her looks. It had simply started with admiration of her sword technique and battle prowess when he had first sparred with her. His respect grew as she revealed her cool, logical mind in decision making, and her beliefs on how a kingdom ought to be ruled with righteousness. Her bravery in battle had impressed him, but he was more struck by her care for her comrades. Not only did she save him and Aragorn, she comforted Gimli as they journeyed through Moria and took on the cave troll without a second thought, the most difficult of their opponents.

No, Boromir definitely had not fallen for Arturia's looks. He had fallen for her strength, her willpower, her loyalty and her righteousness. He had fallen for a kind and caring girl who was wise beyond her years and who was brave enough to always do what she believed was right, no matter what stood in her way. Once that had happened, Boromir had suddenly noticed how Arturia's green eyes made such a beautiful contrast with her fair hair, how her features were young, but radiated an unmatched purity. He also rather liked how imposing she could look in her shining armor.

But with that love, came worry. Unlike the more talkative women Boromir had been with, Arturia was often rather silent, and set herself apart from the others. So the occasions when she smiled always brightened Boromir's heart. Most of the time though, she seemed withdrawn and overly stern. She never shied from battle, but she would never stop to rest. And from what she'd told him of her past errors… it seemed she never stopped regretting the mistakes she made.

How Boromir wished he could take Arturia's worries away from her and make her happy, make her… his to protect, to stand by, if she wanted to be his. But he knew not how… except for perhaps one method… the one thing that could save Gondor, but also save the girl he loved from her own guilt.

The One Ring.

Which is why Boromir, while gathering firewood for their camp on the lakeside, found himself drawn to a contemplative-looking Frodo.

"Frodo, you shouldn't wander alone," said Boromir. Frodo glanced at him, surprised, but relaxed and sighed.

"I know, but I need to think," said the Ringbearer sadly.

"Too much depends on you, Frodo." Boromir pursed his lips as he picked up another stick. "I know why you wish to be alone. The Ring weighs heavily on you, but…" Boromir looked Frodo in the eye. "You do not need to suffer alone. There are other ways, other paths to take, and other options to consider."

Frodo's eyes narrowed and he backed away from the man. "Boromir, I know that you say it out of good intentions and with words that sound like wisdom, but there is a warning in my heart."

Boromir shook his head in exasperation. "Warning against what? I do not wish to keep the Ring." Frodo blinked at that.

A part of Boromir told him that he should not want it at all, but he didn't want to listen to that part of him right now. He needed the Ring, he needed it for Gondor, to stop Arturia from looking and feeling what sorrow availed her.

"No… it is a burden that is not mine." He set the wood down gently and knelt on the grassy floor. "But I need it. Not for myself, but for my people, for Gondor, for the men… and women, that I hold most dear!" begged Boromir.

Frodo cringed and continued to back away. "No. Boromir, snap out of it. The Ring won't save them! It'd only drive them as mad as you are now!" The Ringbearer knew the situation was bad. Boromir was being sincere, but the Ring… it was warping his intentions, driving him to desperation.

Boromir shuddered at Frodo's statement that seemed to resonate with the truth he deeply knew, but that he ignored. "But Frodo, please. I truly do not wish the ring to be mine! I only want it for the woman I love!" Shaking, Boromir threw himself at Frodo's feet, his eyes fixated on the chain around the hobbit's neck. "I need it to save Arturia!"

The declaration took Frodo aback and he stared. "Boromir… you love her?"

"Yes! Yes! More than anything! Please Frodo, you've seen her sadness, her sorrow, her guilt! It eats away at her like a massive maggot. It is killing her from the inside!"

"Boromir, no! I know she's sad, but you won't make her better by giving her the Ring! Even now…" Frodo recalled Arturia's smile as she rowed down the Anduin and her hand hiding her smile when Pippin cracked a joke yesterday evening. "She gets better, not because of the ring, but because of her friends." Frodo then remembered the night at Lothlorien, while he was walking back to his sleeping roll. He had seen Boromir cover Arturia with a blanket and her content smile as he did so. "And because of you! Can't you see, you don't need the Ring!"

But while Boromir heard Frodo's reasoned answers. The madness and hysteria in his mind refused to register it. He crawled forward through the leaves, eyes only for the place where he knew the Ring was.

"It is the only way!" cried Boromir, lunging forward.

"If you truly love her, then you'd know she'd hate you if you offered it to her!" Frodo yelled as he dodged Boromir's grasping hands, making him slip and bury his face into the ground.

Like a slap to his face, the fog surrounding Boromir's mind lifted and as he rose, he blinked twice, before looking at himself, crawling on the leaves like some beggar.

"Oh no… Frodo… what did I do? I almost…" Boromir shook his head and shuffled away from the Ring like it had turned into the most fearsome object in the world. "I'm sorry. Take it away, get it away from me! I'm sorry. I was too weak! I… The Ring, it's driving me to madness!"

Frodo exhaled in relief as he saw Boromir was back in his senses, but there was a sad look on his face. "I know. It will drive all of us mad. So I must leave."

"What?" gasped Boromir.

"Leave The Fellowship. I can't stay any longer. The Ring's power grows. Even Arturia, with her powers, will eventually succumb to it. Do you understand, Boromir?" asked Frodo.

Boromir hesitated, but grasped Frodo's hand pleadingly. "But you'll die! You can't possibly do this alone!"

"I'm sorry Boromir, but I have no other choice," said Frodo and with that, he slipped on the Ring and flung his hand away from Boromir's grasp.

The man, a stricken expression on his features, crawled around, hands and knees on the forest floor, and the trees echoed with his cries.

"Frodo! No! Don't leave us! **Frodo! I'm sorry!**"

* * *

Mordred grunted as a massive Uruk'Hai, taller than her by more than two heads and armed with a bow, stomped up to her. As per Saruman's orders, they had been travelling almost non-stop in order to intercept the "Fellowship of the Ring." But now, as they arrived at the Amon Hen, a hill known as the Seat of Seeing, they reached striking distance. She could see the party was scattered for some reason, in a sort of search. No matter, it was an excellent time to strike.

"Lurtz, take your company and attack the man, elf and dwarf on the hill. Search for Halflings while you are at it. I will deal with the girl and the man near her," ordered Mordred, drawing Clarent. The red and silver sword had been meant to be given to Arturia's heir. She had stolen it from the Royal Armory and while it never fully acknowledged her ownership, she could still use it to deadly effect.

"Yes, mistress," grunted Lurtz. He bellowed several orders and the company of Uruk'Hai began to move, weapons at the ready.

"Time for me to remind you of whom is the better knight, father," snarled Mordred.

* * *

When Frodo had been found missing from the campsite, The Fellowship had gotten worried, but when they realized Boromir was missing too, they became frantic. Boromir had expressed less interest to take the ring as their quest continued, but the possibility was still a worry for the rest of the companions.

So Saber, taking her friend's shield, for Legolas had sensed a shadow near their campsite, had struck off into the forest at a breakneck pace. She feared for what Boromir could do to Frodo. He was a good man, but all good men could be corrupted by the Ring and his love for his people could easily become the weakness that the Ring would exploit.

She found Boromir, hunched over, half covered in forest loam, crying into his arms. Fearing the worst, she grabbed Excalibur.

"Boromir? Where's Frodo?" demanded Saber.

"I… I…" Guilt. Boromir's voice was filled with it, confirming Saber's worst fears.

Gritting her teeth Saber glared at Boromir. "You tried to take the ring, didn't you?"

The man shook his head fervently, his eyes wide with fear and shame. "I wanted to, I argued with Frodo, and I did try, but I… I told him to leave me, to run away. And he said he would, but he said that he was leaving us."

Saber stared, glad her friend had managed to come to his senses, but more worried about Frodo's actions. "Wait what? Why?"

Boromir threw his arms up into the air. "I don't know! All I know is that he's been very quiet since Lothlorien, but that's it!"

The answer hit Saber like a troll's mace and she cursed. "I think… I think he is afraid the Ring will drive us mad, like it did to you. Galadriel must have warned him…"

Turning back to Boromir, she grabbed his arm. "Get up." Still sniffling a bit, the man stood up, leaves still in his hair. Roughly, Saber brushed a few of them off.

"I'm sorry I don't deserve your trust, Arturia…" whispered Boromir, eyes averted. The remorse in Boromir's voice made Saber wince, so she thrust the shield into his arms, making him look up.

"You resisted it didn't you? So your honour lies intact. Now help me find Frodo before he does something stupid to himself, again!"

Wiping his eyes, Boromir inhaled sharply and nodded. "I think he went that way—" Growls and yells echoed throughout the forest, freezing the blood in the hearts of the two companions.

"Orcs! And it sounds like Merry and Pippin are in trouble!" exclaimed Saber, hearing the voice of the two Hobbits.

"And that's where I think Frodo went!" cursed Boromir.

* * *

Having led the orcs away from Frodo, who was probably slipping away, Merry and Pippin ran as fast as their short legs could carry them. The orcs were gaining on them, but the hobbits were sure they could get away. When they reached a small stone bridge across a stream though, they only found more Uruk'Hai bearing the white hand of Saruman, waiting for them.

Drawing their barrow blades (short swords), Merry and Pippin quickly stood against each other, back to back, but they trembled as the growling Uruk'Hai advanced with their black swords.

Which was when Boromir and Arturia charged in. Arturia's invisible sword quickly claimed the lives of two Uruk'Hai, while Boromir used his shield to stop another Uruk'Hai from cutting down the Hobbits. Three more Uruk'Hai charged the quartet, but Boromir used his shield and sword to fight a delaying action, buying time for Arturia to come at their flank, dispatching them with three well-timed slashes.

"Run, run!" yelled Boromir, blowing the Horn of Gondor as the Uruk's continued to attack them. But they couldn't flee as the horde was unending, forcing the companions to fight a rearguard action. Arturia stayed on point, using her superior speed, agility, and the tactical advantage of Invisible Air's indiscernible length, to engage multiple groups of Uruk'Hai and surprise them with Excalibur's invisibility. Boromir stayed close to the hobbits and dealt with any Uruk'Hai that managed to bypass Arturia, his redirection technique allowing him to conserve his strength, which he used to hack down the Uruk'Hai. Whenever he had the chance, he blew the Horn of Gondor, its loud trumpet blasting through the air, bolstering the morale of the fighters, but also striking fear into the orcs and making them pause. Merry and Pippin supported the fight of their taller friends with well aimed rock throws that slowed the oncoming mass of black orcs.

After sidestepping to stab a Uruk'Hai through the chest, Saber took another step back and grimaced. There was a lot of orcs and they were far stronger and skilled than the ones she had encountered in Moria. Maybe now was the time to use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm. She had the space to do so, but then again, they weren't in any real danger right now. Boromir was protecting her rear and the Hobbits. Merry and Pippin were fending quite well for themselves as well. Not to mention, she'd use a lot of her prana to unleash the attack.

Severing a Uruk'Hai at the waist-level, Saber made a decision and turned to Boromir. "We need to break out and meet up with Aragorn! He must be pinned down if he can't go to our aid!"

Then, over the clashing swords and Uruk'Hai grunts, Saber heard a voice that was all-too familiar to her.

"I can't have you doing that, your majesty."

As Saber's eyes settled on the approaching figure, it was as if her heart had stopped beating. That silver and red plate armor, with imposing spikes. The ruffled blonde hair, the same shade as her own. Those green eyes and facial features that mirrored hers precisely.

There was only one person who fit the description of the girl charging toward her, the silver and red sword known as Clarent, in her hands. The person who had used the instability caused by Lancelot's defection to tear Britain asunder. The person who was responsible for destroying Britain and permanently ending her rule, as well as her life.

Saber's calm expression vanished, replaced by a mask hardened through countless bloody battles.

"Mordred!"

The Knight of Treachery sneered, her silver sword slashing down toward the King of Knights. Saber blocked, whirling around to slash at Mordred's head, but she leaned back to pass under the blade and responded with a wild swing at Saber's head.

"Surprised, father?" giggled Mordred, almost like a child. Saber blocked her daughter's strike, and was forced to retreat as Mordred continued attack with wild abandon.

"What? Father?!" gasped Boromir.

Mordred raised an eyebrow as Arturia continued to give ground in measured steps. "Oh? So you haven't told them about your heir, your majesty?

"Majesty?" gasped Pippin and Merry simultaneously, momentarily distracted from throwing rocks.

The red knight's eyes widened and she snarled at Saber. "You really told them nothing at all, didn't you? Are you that ashamed of me! Of your own mistakes!" screamed Mordred. Her slashes increasing in tempo and in ferocity, Mordred drove Saber to retreat with her berserk attacks.

"Answer me! King Arturia Pendragon! You who brought upon the downfall of your own kingdom!"

Saber's eyes widened. "I…" Camlann… where she and Mordred had clashed, where Britain was destroyed, by her failure, and… Mordred's coup.

Anger surged into Saber's arms and with a titanic release of prana, she hammered Excalibur into Mordred's Clarent, nearly knocking the sword out of Mordred's hands and hurling her back.

"How dare you accuse me of what you did!" roared Saber. Pressing onward, Saber counterattacked with deadly, precise strikes. Mordred's berserk sword form had lots of holes and Saber exploited them mercilessly. Mordred blinked, frightened for once in the battle as the invisible Excalibur nicked her armor, cut her armguard and left a thin slash on her cheek.

"You split the knights of the Roundtable and killed your comrades, Gawain, Kay and Tristan, noble knights all. You helped drive Lancelot, the best knight in the world mad with grief. You broke Britain in half, leaving it to sunder in flames, and for what? So you could sit on a throne you cannot rule?" asked Saber coldly, knocking aside Mordred's sword with a contemptuous one-handed parry.

"I said it once and I will say it again. You do _not_ _have the capacity of a king._" Taking her sword in two hands, Saber smashed it into Mordred's Clarent, sending her flying head over heels and into the ground.

"So whatever dark sorcery brought you back from the grave. I will end you and it for good. For the knights you slew, for the crimes you have committed. I will have you answer to them!" declared Saber, advancing cautiously.

"You think I wanted to come back like this?" coughed Mordred wiping the dirt from her eyes. She lunged at Saber again, locking hilts with Excalibur. The two struggled to overpower the other, but Mordred one hand letting go of her sword, seized Saber's neck. Struggling to breathe, Saber grimaced as she was pushed up against a tree and was forced to release one hand from Excalibur to try to stop Mordred from strangling her.

"Saruman, brought me back from death itself! Broke nearly every bone in my body until he tricked me into swearing myself into his service!" screamed Mordred. Saber blinked, were those tears at the edge of Mordred's eyes. "But I don't care! I am but a homunculus born from "the evil witch Morgan's" sorcery after all? I'm worth nothing to you or anybody! I never was!" Saber coughed, her vision was fading, but was it her… or was Mordred somehow… sounding almost desperate? And why was she feeling just a bit sorry for Mordred?

Mordred's grip on Saber's throat tightened, causing Saber to croak. "But even if I lose my free will, I can still claim something. I can claim to be your killer, twice over. I can claim to succeed you, if not by your recognition, then by combat!" Cursing, Saber seized Excalibur in both hands and using her Prana Burst ability, mustered enough strength to point the wind-sheathed sword at Mordred's head.

**"Strike Air: Hammer of the Wind King!"** croaked Saber.

Invisible Air released its howling winds into Mordred's face, blowing her away from Saber, who took several deep breaths. Turning to Boromir, she bit her lip. He was beset by orcs and while he and Merry and Pippin were fighting bravely, they were getting tired, and very near to being overwhelmed.

"Boromir, grab the Hobbits and get away!" ordered Saber, managing to bring Excalibur's golden blade up to block another rage-bolstered strike by Clarent.

"No! I will not leave you!" roared Boromir. Once more, he blew the horn of Gondor, before blocking a strike with his shield and stabbing below it to skewer the orc.

Unable to take her eyes off Mordred for a second, Saber yelled. "You will die!"

But Boromir's reply was equally as stubborn. "Then I will die with you!"

"How touching, did you find yourself a suitor, father?" spat Mordred, as she blocked Saber's attempt to hack off her arm.

Saber's eyes opened to the size of plates. She wanted to look to Boromir, to see his expression, but Clarent slashed at her leg and then toward her head, forcing her to parry.

"What."

Snorting, Mordred knocked Saber's parrying sword aside and tried to impale her leg. "You are even more pathetic than I thought if you can't even notice the look he gets in his eyes every time I try to skewer you."

Saber dodged the stab and disengaged from Mordred, finally getting a good look at Boromir's eyes. Despite the fact he was beset by orcs, he continued to send worried glances at her. His concern though, was interfering with his concentration. Several times, blades nearly crashed down on his back or his neck.

"Your opponent is me, father!" screamed Mordred. Saber sidestepped, dodging Clarent and countering with Excalibur.

Saber grimaced, she needed to end this now. Boromir, Pippin and Merry would not last much longer. It was time to use her Noble Phantasm. The situation was dire enough and enough people were in danger that she could feel enough of the restrictions lift. After a brief exchange of blows, Saber managed to deflect Clarent away with a clang. A hole in Mordred's defenses opened up, allowing Saber to give Mordred a prana-infused kick that sent her flying backward.

It was time. Saber raised Excalibur high in both hands, charging the sword with prana. Golden lights, spirits of all the dead warriors that sought glory, flocked to Excalibur's shining blade. Yet, Saber hesitated.

In the heat of battle, and her mind still reeling from the realization of Boromir's feelings, Saber had forgotten to check her surroundings thoroughly. Boromir, Pippin and Merry, stood right behind Mordred, who was struggling onto her feet.

"Arturia! Attack! Don't worry about us!" roared Boromir, seeing Arturia's indecision.

"He's right, do whatever you need to do!" yelled Merry as he stabbed another orc in the foot. Pippin was nodding as he followed up his friend with a wild slash.

But Saber couldn't. The seal had unlocked as enough restrictions had been lifted. Even Caradoc's problematic restriction that only allowed her to use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm for Britain's glory had unlocked, as she was facing an enemy from Britain and who had brought the kingdom's downfall. Yet, Saber didn't.

That hesitation was enough to give Mordred the time to point Clarent at her throat. The silver and red knight wore a triumphant smile, wide with anticipation of victory.

Sneering, Mordred chuckled. "Saruman was right. You are changed. Softer, weaker. I was right to manipulate the fight so that you would end up facing your comrades." Nonchalantly she put a hand on her hip relaxing her posture a bit.

"So father, will you unleash Excalibur and kill your suitor and your friends to save your life, or will you let me kill you and spit on your corpse, while your suitor screams?" Mordred smirked as Saber's arms began to tremble. Saber tried to ignore her qualms, to abandon her code of chivalry, to ignore the happy moments she had spent with her friends, with Boromir… but she couldn't.

"Well then, father? What is your answer?"

Saber took a deep breath and looked over Mordred's shoulder to meet Boromir's horror-filled blue eyes. "If you truly admired me, then you would know my answer."

"I thought so, d— Argh!" Two stones courtesy of Merry and Pippin, hit Mordred's head, followed by a hand and a half-sword that seemed to grow from her shoulder, Boromir's. Not wasting her chance, Saber dodged to the right so that she was turned away from her friends and raised Excalibur. Mordred, seeing what was about to come, lifted Clarent too in both hands. The handsome silver-red sword warped, growing in size, but also changing into a grotesque shape, while emitting a terrifying blood-red aura.

"**Excalibur!**"

**"****Clarent Blood Arthur: Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father!"**

The attacks of the two swords smashed against each other, Excalibur's golden light breaking against the fork of red lightning fired by Clarent. It was clear from the outset though on who would win.

Excalibur's bright light lit the entire forest, collapsing onto the red of Mordred's like a tsunami. Century-old tree trunks shattered, earth flew, and winds howled as the terrifying destructive power of Excalibur drove the red back. Gradually, to Mordred's scream of pain and frustration, her attack was eaten away and she was herself enveloped in a tower of golden flame.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lights faded to reveal Saber, panting heavily, Excalibur glowing a bit dimmer, smoking. Yet, despite her exhaustion, there wasn't a new scratch on the King of Knights.

Mordred, had lost that exchange, and her expression was twisted by the agony of the cost for using her own attack, not to mention the damage inflicted by Excalibur. Her armor was ripped off, its front almost completely shattered. Saber could see Prana gathering to repair the damage to the armor, but it would take a long time. Mordred's left arm dangled limply at her side, mangled and twisted. Her right hand rested on Clarent, which was stuck into the ground, point-first. Behind her were the vaporised remains of the many Uruk'Hai that had been caught by Excalibur's attack. The rest of the orcs were paralyzed with fear.

"There will be another time where I will kill you father!" Reaching behind her, Mordred used what seemed like her last bit of strength to tear Boromir's sword from her shoulder and fling it at Saber like a javelin. Moving as fast as she could, Saber managed to get her body out of the way, but the sword punched into her right arm and carried her backward until the weapon embedded itself up to its hilt into the tree.

"Arturia!" Boromir cried out.

Saber gritted her teeth straining to pull the sword out of the sticky wood. "I'm fine! Watch out!" Mordred was charging in Boromir's direction, using her prana. Worry filled Saber's heart, for Boromir was only using a shield and a dirk, but instead of fighting him, Mordred dashed past Boromir.

Realizing what Mordred was about to do, Saber cursed and redoubled her efforts. "Merry, Pippin!"

Too late, despite her mangled left hand, the Knight of Treachery seized Merry and Pippin in a scoop of her arm and sneered at Saber and Boromir. "For now though, father, I will be content in stealing your friends away!"

Saber glared at Mordred as she continued to try to wrestle the sword from the tree, not caring that the blade continued to cut into her arm. "Mordred, this is between you and me—"

"Wrong! You dared to care about these people when you rejected me as your heir, and for that I shall make you pay!" The knight laughed as the Hobbits struggled and Boromir tried unsuccessfully to get past the Uruk'hai fighting him. "Catch me if you can, father!" And with that, Mordred fled the scene, taking the two hobbits with her. The Uruk'Hai followed her, enough managing to delay Boromir so that by the time he dispatched them with his dirk, the rest were gone.

"Merry, Pippin! I will find you! I will save you! I swear it!" screamed Saber as her friends disappeared into the distance, with the person who hated her the most.

* * *

"Where were you?" demanded Boromir tiredly as Aragorn and the others arrived on the scene.

"The fifty or so Uruk'Hai we were fighting and their commander were very tenacious," said Aragorn. Boromir took a moment to examine Aragorn and winced. The ranger sprouted an ugly gash on his arm made by what appeared to have been an arrow, while Gimli and even Legolas bore all manner of injuries and cuts. Their blades were also dripping with orc blood.

"Merry and Pippin were taken, and I don't know where Frodo and Sam are. I am assuming Frodo has decided to cross the lake on his own," said Boromir. Aragorn sighed and his eyes narrowed with concern as he spotted Arturia. The girl was slumped against a tree, bleeding from a number of minor wounds and a hole in her arm, but it wasn't the wounds Aragorn was worried about, it was the dead look in her eyes.

"Arturia, are you…"

"She's been like that ever since she fought Mordred," said Boromir, his brow furrowing.

Aragorn blinked. "Mordred? The man who tried to usurp Arturia's king? Didn't he and her king die in single combat, thus causing her kingdom's ruin?"

"The girl," corrected Boromir. The man turned to Arturia. "The girl who tried to take the throne _Arturia_ held and who apparently killed _Arturia_ in single combat."

Aragorn stared at Arturia, aghast. The guilt, the regret, the constant questions and discussions Arturia would bring up regarding kingship and her stance on them. The puzzle pieces all fell into place, though more questions sprang to mind as they did.

"Then you are…"

"A king from another world who failed her country and let it fall to ruin," sighed Saber. She looked at her companions, a look of resignation on her exhausted features.

"I am really pathetic, am I not, Aragorn? I had the gall to lecture you on how to be a king, while I never told you about how I was unable to save my own kingdom."

"And Boromir…" Saber swallowed and averted her gaze. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way." Slowly, painfully, Saber rose to her feet facing the direction Mordred had taken Merry and Pippin. "Aragorn, take everybody else and find Frodo. I will deal with Mordred myself—" Saber suddenly found herself spun around to look into Boromir's furious eyes.

"I am not leaving your side, Arturia. Not until I get some answers." He held Saber's hands firmly, but in a tender fashion and brushed some of the orc blood from her pale features that were starting to redden. "I am a man of Gondor, have a little more faith in me."

Saber shook her head uncomprehendingly as she saw her companions surround her, supporting her with their tired smiles.

"Frodo and Sam… they are going on their own journey, and I have let them leave." Saber opened her mouth to protest, but Aragorn shook his head. "We have taken them as far as we can, but as we draw closer to Mordor, the Ring's influence gets stronger. We would have become more of a danger to them instead of protection." Aragorn firmly clasped Saber's shoulder. "But Merry and Pippin are in real peril now, and regardless of whom you are, I want you to help me save them, Arturia."

Saber felt her eyes moist up slightly. "What… what do you all possibly see in me?" After all, was she not a king, who could not understand people? Who tried to shoulder the burden of her people, but failed to do so anyway? Did she not just fail now against one of the biggest mistakes of her past life?

"You may have made some rather big mistakes lassie, but have you figured out yet? We like you that way, mistakes an all," said Gimli. He punched Arturia's side lightly.

"Though, we could do without the guilt," commented Legolas.

"The regret,"said Boromir.

"The lecturing," said Aragorn raising an eyebrow.

"And we would really like an explanation," added Boromir.

Saber laughed, she laughed despite the tears in her eyes and her aching body and arm. She laughed because she didn't have to hide anymore and because nothing had changed. Her friends were still with her.

She wasn't alone anymore.

"I will tell you, but first, let us be off," said Saber letting go of Boromir's hands, still smiling at him. She turned to Aragorn. "Mordred and her company will be travelling quickly. Do you think we can keep up with them?"

"Your majesty, I think we'll be easily able to _chase_ them," said Aragorn with a bit of a mock bow and grin. The Fellowship springing into action, they quickly bound up Saber's arm and retrieved their supplies. Then, feet pounding on the ground, the two men, the elf, the dwarf, and the girl, started their pursuit of the Uruk'Hai and the knight of treachery.

As they left Amon Hen though and moved toward less forested lands, Saber couldn't help but glance thoughtfully at Boromir. She didn't quite know what to think of his feelings for her, but she instinctively knew that would work itself out in time.

Besides… the idea that Boromir was in love with her… though confusing and completely inexplicable… wasn't an unpleasant one.

**Author's Note: Well that's the Fellowship of the Ring Completed. Stay tuned for** **Book Two, The Two Towers. I'm afraid we are departing from Frodo and Sam now, but they'll be here in the Omake and in Flashbacks.**

**Also, updates will also not be likely until the ENTIRE Two Towers Arc is completed, which isn't actually too big of a challenge, but it's those pesky dialogue scenes between Mordred, Arturia, Pippin and Merry that I have planned that will be a challenge. Also have yet to have any idea of how to write the Warg ambush scene...**

**Alternate title: The King and her Son**

**Omake, Carnival Phantasm LoTR Edition Opening Performance Act 1 "Casting Part 2"**

**Aragorn: **Alright, when Eowyn finally gets here we will have three LoTR females, so let's just leave it with them. We need females from Fate/Stay Night though.

**Everybody stares at Saber**

**Saber makes a fist: **No matter, I will do the work of three women.

**Mordred:** Oh don't worry about that father

**Saber**: MORDRED! WHERE DID YOU TAKE OUR HOBBITS!

**Mordred:** Ask Legolas.

**Legolas: **?

**Mordred: **You'll get it eventually….

**Aragorn:** Oh whatever. Saber, Mordred, you're both up as you're all we have right now.

**Saber and Mordred are too busy fighting with swords to listen**

**Gimli: **But according to the script, we need four cartoony shortish cats from this… Abhernabe Cafe to pop up and yell "hey?"

**Boromir:** Can't we use the Hobbits for that? I don't know how Frodo and Sam are here, but we did have four Hobbits.

**Sam and Frodo, somehow still here, wave: **Apparently because we won't get any screentime, the author decided that we can stay, but since Mordred kidnapped Pippin and Merry, they can't appear for this Omake.

**Aragorn turns and draws his sword:**... MORDRED WHERE ARE YOU TAKING OUR HOBBITS!

**Mordred, still duelling Saber: **I TOLD YOU! ASK THE POINTY EARED FRIEND OF YOURS!


	9. Chapter 9: The Chase Part 1

**Chapter 9: The Chase Part 1**

At first, Pippin had been deathly afraid of Mordred. She may have had the same face as Arturia, but her eyes were harder, her armour far more menacing and every time their eyes had met, she had always scowled at him.

That fear had faded quickly after the first day. In their flight, Merry had hit his head on something and had been feeling groggy, his eyes glazed over slightly.

"My friend needs water, please," Pippin had begged.

"Sick, is he? Give him some medicine, boys! Hahaha!" laughed the Uruk'Hai. He had unstoppered a waterskin and poured a potent smelling syrup into Merry's mouth, causing him to choke.

Pippin, alarmed, had screamed for the orc to stop, but a sharp hand slapped the orc's hand away.

"Stupid oaf, you'll kill him at this rate!" snapped Mordred. She had then poured some of her canteen of clean water into Merry's mouth. Mordred had scowled at Merry while doing so, but Pippin soon realized that she wasn't actually angry at them.

In fact, she seemed jealous.

It was the same kind of look Hobbits would occasionally give each other during the Garden Contest, when the winner of the "Best Pumpkin" had been decided upon. Mordred's glare, it was far more scary, but the similarities were eerie.

As the Uruk'Hai encamped for the night, The Hobbits had been dumped on the ground and not given any food. They could not even look hungrily upon what the Uruk'Hai were eating as all they had was maggoty bread and what appeared to be some sort of black, foul-looking jerky.

That was until Mordred shoved a small piece of decent looking and smelling bread into their mouths. Merry and Pippin were so surprised they forgot how to chew for a moment, until she glared at them.

"Oh stop looking at me like that. I can't have you starving to death before you get to Isengard," Mordred snapped, cowing the two hobbits into chewing quickly.

She then sat down heavily onto the night-frozen ground, wincing as her still bloody left arm hung limply at her side.

"Do you need some help with that?" asked Pippin.

A cold-green glare greeted Pippin's question. "What?"

Merry croaked, wondering why did Pippin always drag him into trouble. "Well, I mean, Pippin and I know a bit of the healing arts. We can cut up some bandages and at least dress it…"

Mordred sneered. "You want me to untie your hands."

Pippin and Merry shook their heads furiously, despite the fact that the idea had passed their minds. "Perish the thought, Sir Mordred."

Snorting, Mordred used her right hand to loosen the bonds that bound Merry and Pippin's hands. She didn't untie their legs though.

"Get to work," she snapped.

Pippin and Merry had worked somewhat clumsily given they had to crawl to get the materials. But using a couple of clean strips of cloth that Mordred had given them, some water, and some healing dock leaves that they got Mordred to grab from a nearby bush, they managed to clean and then bind the arm, and the shoulder-wound inflicted by Boromir's sword. However, it was also dislocated.

"Um, Sir… Miss," coughed Merry.

"Oh for the love of… just call me Mordred!" growled the knight angrily. The two had been alternating between male and female addresses during the entire operation and it was getting on Mordred's nerves.

"Mordred, your arm is dislocated, we need to put it back in…" stammered Pippin.

Mordred raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"It's going to hurt," said Merry, wincing.

After momentarily rolling her eyes, Mordred glared at the trembling hobbits. "Well! Do it!" she ordered.

Nodding, Pippin grabbed hold of Mordred's shoulder, Merry grabbing hold of her arm and hand. He was surprised that despite the calluses on the knight's fingers, the hand that he gripped was actually quite small, even for a Hobbit.

"On the count of three. One, two, three!" Merry yanked on the arm and Pippin held tight. Mordred gave a muffled moan as the arm clicked back into place.

Quick as they could, Merry and Pippin sprang back and closed their eyes, not sure if the temperamental knight was going to strangle them. Luckily, when they finally dared to open their eyes, all they could see was Mordred glaring at them, flexing her arm and fingers.

"Thanks."

Merry and Pippin stared at the knight, for the second time in the night, at a loss for words, which was rather rare in itself.

"You're welcome," stuttered Pippin. The two hobbits quickly went to sleep after that, the actions of their abductor leaving them in complete bemusement.

The Fellowship ran the whole day non-stop, chewing on lembas bread and the remainder of their salted pork, even as they leapt over tree roots and stormed through bushes. Gimli had the worst going of it as he was the shortest, and to his utter humiliation Saber, Boromir, or Aragorn were occasionally forced to carry him in order to maintain the pace of their chase. He protested greatly at this humiliation, until Saber reminded him that any delay might cost Pippin and Merry their lives.

As they ran, Saber had told her friends of her past, her actual age and why she looked so young, her kingship, its fall, the Holy Grail War, and her arrival on Middle Earth. She also informed them of Galadriel's Prophecy.

The reaction of her friends had been… mixed, but she wasn't entirely sure what they thought of her and the constant running meant it was difficult to ask.

Gimli was silenced from even grumbling for once. Legolas had only asked her a few clarifying questions, but wore an oddly grim-faced expression that did not match his beautiful features. Boromir's had looked disgusted at the conduct of the Grail War, but he had simply nodded in understanding when Saber described her kingship. All of them had gawked when Saber explained how Mordred had been born from a combination of Merlin enchanting her to produce quasi-sperm, and Morganna taking advantage of the fact to procure some of it.

They had finally stopped as it had gotten too dark and too dangerous to travel over treacherous terrain. Most of the Fellowship, Gimli and Boromir in particular, had thrown down their bedrolls and fallen fast asleep. Being short, and being a normal man didn't help the two's endurance.

Legolas and Aragorn however had taken out a pair of pipes and were now smoking by the embers of the fire. Saber just sat nearby, tired, but not ready for bed. She preoccupied herself with polishing her sword and scabbard, which were slightly stained with orc gore and dust.

"Arturia, do you wish to join us?" asked Legolas.

Turning to the elf, Arturia paused for a moment, then sheathed her blade and sat herself between the pair. Aragorn produced a spare pipe and filled it with some of his tobacco. Legolas lit it with a small twig and passed it to Arturia.

The king of Britain took the pipe in her hand, put it in her mouth and sucked in on the pipe, only to burst into a fit of hacking coughs as cloying smoke filled her mouth. Aragorn patted Arturia on the back, and she managed to recover some dignity.

"This is very strong weed," said Arturia.

"You have never smoked before have you?" asked Legolas

Arturia couldn't help but redden slightly. "No I have not. I never understood why my knights, and my foster father Sir Ector enjoyed this." Undaunted, she put the pipe to her mouth and let the smoke fill her mouth again, slowly this time. Now that it wasn't choking her, Arturia could tell the smoke had a sort of fragant aroma to it.

"It is relaxing, and a good way to pass the time when you cannot sleep," said Aragorn.

Arturia popped the pipe out from her mouth and shrugged. "I suppose so." She put the pipe back in and continued to smoke alongside the man and elf, silently.

A sudden thought occurred to Arturia's mind and she decided to act on it. "Legolas, you are a Prince of Mirkwood if I recall correctly, tell us a tale. Maybe it will put us to sleep faster and give us strength for the chase ahead."

Legolas pondered the question for a moment. "Very well, I shall tell of the Akallabêth, the Rise and Fall of Numenor, and the founding of the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor."

Aragorn had heard the tale many a time, but listened to his friend speak. Arturia, who had never heard of the saga sat in rapt fascination, puffing from her pipe every so often as Legolas spun the saga in the dramatic, yet sometimes strangely gentle voice of the elvish bards.

It was quite late by the time Legolas had finished and the eyes of them all were tired, but the tale had served its purpose.

"Thank you very much, Legolas, for the story," said Arturia as she stood up.

Legolas smiled, his fair eyes twinkling. "You are welcome, your highness."

Arturia chuckled as she mockingly glared at the elf. "My name is Arturia, Legolas, and unless you want me to call you Prince, I suggest you just address me as so."

"As long as you grace us with a tale for the next evening," said Legolas.

Arturia nodded. "It is only fair, and I have many a great saga to tell of my knights."

"Very well, good evening, Arturia."

**Author's Note: Woah, sorry for late updates. I was stonewalled by assignments and then by writers block and then by grad school applications. Here you go :D**

**Also, someone asked for more Legolas dialogue. I have delivered.**

**Also, TV Tropes Fanfic Rec? Plox?**

**Omake: Momma Saber and Mordred**

**A possible side-story idea I came up with. In a kinder, more modern world, "King" Arturia of the United Kingdom of Great Britain has to raise little Mordred, her clone by her mad-scientist half-sister Morgan le Fay. All the while, she must maintain her status in the real world, but also in the online game "Grail Wars."**

Arturia spluttered as her prime minister, Lancelot nodded to confirm her fears.

"You cannot be serious, Lancelot?" she stammered, gripping the arms of her chair. They were in Buckingham Palace, sometimes code-named Camelot.

Arturia's faithful secretary and former girlfriend Guinevere only confirmed her husband, Lancelot's nods with her too-bright smile. "I am very serious my liege, you must raise Mordred as your daughter and heir."

Saber glanced at the tiny, cooing baby in the crib. "But…"

"Unless you want to get married?" asked Defense Minister Gawain, a cheeky smile on his features.

"Heavens no! Hasn't my rejections of that oafish King of Uruk and that crazy serial killer French Lord Gil du Ray shown you that? One just wants me because I'm somehow belong in his "treasure trove," which is more like a harem. The other just wants me because the new French PM Jean of Arc dumped him!"

"Then you must adopt Mordred and raise her as your own. Besides isn't she so cuuute?" cooed Guinevere, holding up the baby to Arturia. The blond-haired, green-eyed infant giggled waving her tiny hands.

Arturia sighed and gingerly took Mordred from Guinevere's hands and lifted her closer. She didn't smile, and was actually doing her best to hide her annoyance.

As if sensing it, Mordred's eyes seem to only grow wider as she pawed the air with her tubby little hands and gurgled:

"Pa, Pa."

Arturia's heart melted at those words and that overkill level of trust, love, and cuteness in Mordred's puppy-dog eyes. A smile making its way onto her tired features, she lifted closer to her.

"I don't know how she knows I'm her dad, but this works for me," said Arturia with a soft smile.


End file.
